


Pavlovian

by otapocalypse



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Artist!Keith, Blow Jobs, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Butt Plugs, Collars, Coming Out, Consensual Somnophilia, Double Dating, Fluff, Gaudy Cars, Hand Jobs, Hands, Horribly named organizations, Kink Negotiation, Kosmo is adorable, Let's make that a tag 2k19, M/M, Massage, Master/Pet, Masturbation, Medical Procedures, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Pet Play, Philosophy, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Pup Play, Relationship Discussions, Scratching, Sexting, Smut, Sunsets, Tingly Keith, collaring, he works for an arts company, necking, please
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2019-09-21 08:28:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 62,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17040302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otapocalypse/pseuds/otapocalypse
Summary: A stressful promotion and a lonely life outside of work leads Keith to seek out a release in the form of Takashi Shirogane, a Dom who's dedicated his time to training those curious in the art of pet play.  Captivated by the man's warmth and the thrill of the scene, Keith nonetheless has much more to fix than a little bit of tension





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic in its entirety is dedicated to the lovely and wonderful Mei, without whom this fic likely just wouldn't exist. Buckle up folks, it's gonna be a long one

_Just perfect_. It was one of those days Keith was struggling not to believe this had been a mistake. Taking a promotion with the arts and humanities organization he'd worked for since high school had seemed like the opportunity of a lifetime at first- amazing pay for it being a nonprofit, first off. He got to continue doing what he loved, second. Or so he'd thought. If he had thought beyond that, he would have seen the reasons ended there, as his shiny new title of Junior Arts Director had a lot more to do with the directing than the art, and while he'd stood in front of numerous crowds and given presentation after presentation with the organization over the years, it had hardly turned him into a people person.

He'd gone from his hard physical and creative work on city projects- murals, dance programs, parade floats, just about everything you could visualize and then some- to the much more mentally daunting, emotionally draining task of managing every project going on in the city that year. It was only the first week of summer, and Keith was burnt out.

Keith slumped into the passenger's seat of the company-supplied vehicle, a minivan painted over with bright, gaudy pop art that displayed the proud brand _ARTFUNKS_ across the side in neon bubble letters. He heaved a sigh that betrayed all the suffering of his heart and soul.

“What was it this time?” A bright voice asked from beside him. He supposed the job wasn't all bad.

Lance McClain, senior arts director, had one year of experience on him, but apparently that one year made a lot of difference. Lance wasn't the one currently attempting to crush his own skull against the dashboard. The guy was odd, if you asked Keith- way too bright and bubbly, too damn flirty, and despite his typically nice attire, always had a chain around his neck- not even a necklace. An actual chain. Keith had learned not to question things around there, and Lance's heart was in the right place. 

“Inappropriate use of slurs, and or insults.” Keith answered as if reading straight from the rulebook. He dragged himself up to a sitting position. “If you ask me, every use of a slur or insult is inappropriate. It was pretty clear my message of acceptance and unity was not heard.” He raised his eyebrows as Lance leaned in, reaching out, and before Keith could dart away from the hand descending on him, Lance had harmlessly plucked a post it note Keith hadn't noticed on the back of his shirt. “Kick me,” he read off, expressionless. “You'd think a bunch of kid artists would be a little more original than that.”

“Hey. You'll get there.” Lance flicked the post it note into the back, where it stuck and hung lifelessly off one of the seats. “You're just a new face. They'll settle down. Or the impressive workload under the heat of the day will beat them down.” Lance shrugged. “Either or.”

“I remember those days.” Keith said flatly, buckling up as Lance pulled out onto the city streets. “I prefer them.” At least, said the little voice in his head, you're physically unable to drive through all this. Keith watched as several cars in front of them immediately got into a very vocal altercation, blaring their horns at each other. He wasn't surprised when Lance joined in.

“Come on, it says right there that's a one-way street, you morons!” He raised a hand above his head, before shaking it and directing his attention back to Keith, probably noticing how shaken he already was. “Look, you just need to find some way to destress and relax when you're not at work.”

Keith turned his eyes on Lance, and had to give the man credit. He was used to others shrinking from his gaze when he felt this way, so when Lance only grinned ever wider, Keith gave up and settled with a deadpan look. “And I guess you have an idea of how I should do that, huh? Keep your eyes on the road.”

Lance obeyed, but he wasn't deterred.

“Do you have sex?”

“Uhhhh…” Keith immediately let drop from his lips, feeling sure now that this may just couldn't get any better. “I know we've grown very close very quickly and all…”

“Not with me,” Lance snorted, but it was good natured, meant to put Keith at ease. He hated that it worked. “But you know, there are services and all. Professionals. I know you're kind of the nervous type, wouldn't expect you to just go out and look for a one night stand-”

“Absolutely not.” Keith interrupted, his face aflame. Lance was lucky he somehow swindled everyone into enjoying his company.

“So get with someone who has something to lose if they don't stay professional. They can help you let go. Here,” Lance's hand slipped into his own shirt then, it was almost as alarming as when he'd plucked the note off Keith when he whipped a business card out and held it out to Keith. “This guy is great. More than great, he's amazing. Makes money off safe and friendly kink lessons.”

Keith stared down at the card, sleek black with only a website printed across it in silvery letters. He looked back up at Lance.

“Forgive me for saying so, but you whipping a mysterious card out of your breast and telling me some amazing guy is going to train me to be fucked doesn't exactly help me relax.” Lance stuffed the card into Keith's shirt pocket as he spoke.

“Well, relax anyway. I've been through one of his programs, and I can tell you he's legit. Plus, if you've been recommended by a previous satisfied customer-” Lance pointed brightly at himself, “He'll give you the first round of lessons free.”

“First _round_?” Keith repeated dumbly. “Isn't that kind of shady- wait, _you_?” He blinked. “What about- Allura-?” Lance chuckled.

“She went through it with me. I mean, jeeze, what do you think this is?” He asked, tugging at the chain round his neck. Suddenly, something so innocent yet odd was starting to make sense. Keith slumped back in his seat, taking the card out and staring dumbly at it. “As for the rounds- well, you'll see.” Lance continued, glancing over at Keith. “You don't have to do it if you're uncomfortable. But it wouldn't hurt to check it out. He is very kind, and you really need to relax. In any way.”

Keith didn't bother answering him, just wanting the conversation to end, and as Lance didn't seem intent on pushing him- thankfully- the conversation ended there.

The rest of the drive Keith spent in silence, while Lance droned on about one thing after the other, undeterred even when Keith didn't answer. He guessed Lance was used to him going silent. Probably believed he was thinking about the offer earlier. Keith couldn't let him know he was right- he'd never hear the end of the teasing. And yet.

He hadn't exactly had any fun for nearly a year now, focused more on working his promotion, earning the high pay he got for what was, from the outside, a perfectly reasonable and easy job. Maybe it was time for that to change. Keith's life at home had grown stale and uneventful, consisting of sitting in the dark, answering emails for work, and taking care of Kosmo. He'd been isolating for a while now, hadn't even called his mom more than once a week. It wasn't fair of him. None of what had happened was her fault.

He needed relaxation, at the very least a distraction or a hobby of some sort. Lance's suggestion hadn't been completely ridiculous, he had to admit. At least it was the weekend. Keith thanked Lance as was their routine when the man dropped him off outside the shack with a wink, and Keith was left red-faced and glaring after the gaudy car as it sped joyfully off, incredibly out of place among the red-gold landscape of the desert. The city chugged away in the distance, releasing a cloud of smog into the air, and Keith watched the smoke swirling for a moment before sighing, and turning to trudge inside.

Kosmo greeted him ecstatically, leaping up and whining for attention, and as soon as Keith dropped his bag aside and kicked off his boots, he was on his knees, his arms wrapping strongly around the dog's neck and pulling him in for a rough hug, both of them growling playfully at each other, Kosmo's long tail waving in the air like a flag while Keith's hands ruffled the thick, dark fur all over his body.

“Ooh, Kosmo, sweet Kosmo, I missed you too, buddy-” Keith's baby talk was interrupted with kissy noises, to which Kosmo responded by leaping on him again and covering him in several drooly kisses, until Keith was sputtering and shoving at his head. “Ugh, gross- you big lug, gross, get off me, ewww-” He could at least let go here, knowing his dog wasn't about to judge him for acting so ridiculous. Kosmo leapt away again, and Keith gave another exaggerated, “Yeee-uck,” dashing at his face as his monster of a mutt charged around the shack in light, bouncy strides, his tail wagging and breath huffing excitedly.

“Hey, Kosmo,” Keith called, clicking his tongue, “Come here, c'mere c'mere! You wanna go _outside_?” That word ignited an even grander reaction, and Keith laughed brightly as he wrestled Kosmo into a standstill, clipping a leash onto his harness. “Come on, buddy, come on!” He said brightly, and the two charged outside for their walk- well, Kosmo charged. Keith tolerated being yanked along.

His dad's place had always been a source of comfort- when the rest of the world had lost patience with Keith's discipline issues, his father had remained patient, open, always knowing how to calm him or cheer him up. He'd always taken care of Keith, and even in death, he'd found a way to continue doing so. Acres of land now belonged to Keith in addition to the little cabin, and it was remote enough that being outside, even this close to the city, meant Keith could walk for miles without seeing another human being. It was bliss, when he could spend time there.

The desert ground, rocky and dry, stretched for leagues out behind the cabin, and it was in this direction Keith headed, Kosmo trailing ahead and zigzagging back and forth on the long lead, sniffing and panting and snorting whenever his nose hit a bit of dried out brush. A sudden tautness on the leash made Keith look up, seeing Kosmo standing stock still with his hackles raised. Heart dropping, Keith followed the dog's line of sight- and then relaxed, when he saw it was only a small group of deer traveling by in the distance. Kosmo whined excitedly, starting to strain against the lead, and Keith quietly ordered him to heel.

Side by side, the two of them crouched, Keith watching reverently, Kosmo nearly vibrating, as a buck and two does stamped by, paying them no mind. Keith watched until they'd disappeared on the horizon, and then turned, clicking his tongue for Kosmo to follow. After a moment's hesitation, Keith raised his voice to a brighter, higher pitch, and Kosmo happily turned to obey.

Once home, it was dinner for the both of them, gourmet wet food for Kosmo and microwave mac for Keith. Kosmo still scarfed his food down in an instant and begged for more, and Keith spent his time playfully shoving the dog off the couch, over and over again, as he ate his food.

Next in the routine came answering emails and writing up reports for work. Today's incident would have to be included, people would have to be debriefed, letters would have to be written up and sent to parents, to the artists, to each and every one of the near thousand workers that made up the organization. What had happened and what had been done to dealt with it would be repeated, over and over, for the next week at the very least. Keith groaned quietly, Kosmo snuggling up to his side and thumping his tail encouragingly, and after giving the dog a scratch behind the ears, Keith got to work.

His next waking moments came late at night. Keith suddenly opened his eyes, visions of a hand descending on him from above causing him to jolt up, his chest tight and his breath coming in quick, panting breaths. His eyes darted around, but the sun had long since gone down and the cabin was pitch black, leaving Keith to panic momentarily as he struggled to remember where he was.

Kosmo's weight and warmth suddenly pressed into his side, and the the sound of his whining and tail thumping pulled Keith out of it. It was just a dream. Just a dream. He was home, safe. He wrapped his arms around Kosmo's neck and pulled him into a hug, waiting for his shaky breathing to calm as the mutt whined and nosed at his ear, licking nervously at his cheek.

“I'm okay, buddy.” Keith whispered, reaching to gently push Kosmo away from the scar on his face. “I'm okay… Come on.” He said, a bit calmer, and stood, trudging into the kitchen with Kosmo on his tail. About a minute and a half later, Keith had a hot mug of tea and had settled back on the couch, Kosmo's weight draped across him and his laptop balanced on his knees. No more emails, he'd worked too long into the night as it was. Instead he scrolled social media mindlessly, not truly seeing what was in front of him, only pulled out of his trancelike state when Kosmo would lick at his hand or paw at his leg.

Keith finally huffed in frustration. He couldn't keep doing this. He could feel his mind pulling him back in every time he let his guard down. He had to ground himself in some other way. Suddenly remembering the conversation with Lance earlier, Keith tugged the business card out of his pocket and stared at it, tilting the little piece of cardstock back and forth to watch what little light there was dance over the letters. He took a deep breath. So, he was doing this.

A gentle nudge and a quiet order sent Kosmo away to his bed in the next room over, and Keith glanced after him, making sure he was staying, before typing in the website name with shaky hands. He'd expected immediate, in your face porn ads, cocks and tits and come everywhere, but what he was greeted with was a much more personal, clean website, with a layout that didn't make him want to walk into the sea and a friendly greeting from the owner of the site, Shiro, explaining the concept and basics of human pup play.

Keith froze. Had he read that right?

His eyes immediately darted around the screen, clicked the drop down menu- he could see now what Lance had meant by rounds. There were dozens of links to click on, some more tame and basic navigation, some labeled intriguing things like _Gear_ and _Play_. They seemed to be structured in the form of lessons that each built on the last, and Keith's heart pounded in excitement as he hurriedly clicked on the _Gear 1_ tab. What he saw made his abdomen draw up tightly.

Pictures of men in sleek leather and rubber hoods, on all fours, plugs shaped like tails shoved in their ass, accompanied walls of text, again from this Shiro figure, explaining the gear that a human pup would need to purchase for his sessions, how to use it, how to clean and care for it all- Keith groaned softly, suddenly feeling a little feverish, and tipped his head back. Okay. He could do this. He lifted his head up again, and then came a frenzy of reading, starting with the explanation of the very first lesson- he had been correct in assuming they built on one another- and slowly working his way through every picture, word, and video the site had to offer. 

_There are plenty of people who are satisfied with simply putting on a mask and pleasing their masters, playing pretend. I work to help those who may want a little more from the experience_ , wrote Shiro. His tone was light, casual, and friendly throughout, and Keith couldn't help but feel as if he were talking to a friend, even if it was only text on a screen. A video link was next, and Keith clicked, fully unprepared for the sight before him.

“Hello, pups, I am Takashi Shirogane-” Keith paused the video, again letting his head fall back against the couch cushions, flushed and tingling all over. The man was attractive, and not just due to his rippling muscles or the kind look in those gray eyes. Everything about him, from the soft soothing way he spoke to the camera, to the way his hands moved in smooth, calming gestures as he talked, was simultaneously turning Keith on and making him feel cared for. He composed himself, clicked again, watched as Shiro interacted with a man on screen, fully decked out in gear and on all fours like in the picture. Their body language made it clear they were familiar and comfortable with each other, each of Shiro's touches appeared so gentle, so desired by the pup he was with, than Keith was beginning to feel a bit warm under his clothing again. The video ended, and Keith moved on.

_Click, click, click._

The lessons were presented in stages, five stages in all, with dozens of articles within each stage to look over. Keith only grew more turned on as he made his way through the first stage, then moved on to the next. He thought he'd known pretty much everything there was to know about more intense scenes and kinks, in theory. He'd thought he wasn't too interested- he didn't really enjoy pain, or inflicting it on others. He was being proven wrong, on both points, and yet not a single source of pain or humiliation seemed to be around or associated with this Shiro guy's version of pet play. It was all love and care, and that, more than anything, turned Keith on.

The lessons stopped halfway through the second stage, and the site demanded a password from pups under Shiro's care only. Keith groaned in frustration, but he could understand- this was how the guy made money, and he already had a lot of information up for free on his website. Still. Keith hurried back to the _Gear_ tabs, glossing over them, reading about the process of collaring, staring at the gorgeous aesthetic presented in the pictures and the significance of the gear, so much more than simply slipping a dog collar round your neck.

Another check for Kosmo, and Keith quickly shoved at his belt, undoing the buckle clumsily and whipping the thing aside. He pulled his cock free of his boxers, his eyes hooded, face flushed, and lower lip seized harshly between his teeth as he began to stroke himself, merely flushed at first, to his full length. While he did, Keith imagined it- imagined Shiro paying attention to him like that, calling him his pup, presenting him with a collar marking the significance of their bond, their trust in each other, easing the tail plug into him, softly encouraging him as it slipped past, stretched his rim-

Keith moaned out as he came into his hand, tugging himself in a loose fist and bucking his hips through it, before relaxing back for the final time, a pleased sigh escaping his lungs. God damn it, this meant Lance had been right again. Did Keith trust him, when he'd said this was legit? It seemed pretty professional. And he'd seen the chain round Lance's neck. There was a section to contact Shiro at the bottom of the page, and after cleaning himself up and allowing Kosmo to cuddle back into his side, Keith stared at the screen, flipping back and forth between the decision. Should he email this guy? Was it safe to do so? 

Keith finally decided fuck it, it was only an email. He could back out at the first sign of anything troubling. Of course, actually writing and sending the thing was another matter entirely. He spent at least half an hour writing, rewriting, and proofing what he sent Shiro- more work than he had to put into his job, at this point- before Keith finally hit send, and settled back to drop off into an exhausted but blissful sleep.

Keith blinked awake late the next morning feeling unusually well-rested and calm, and in from the moment he stretched and groaned, Kosmo was in his face, panting excitedly while his entire body wriggled from the force of his tail wagging. Keith laughed and shoved him away, quickly slipping on his shoes and the lead, before taking Kosmo out for their morning walk. Breakfast was next, more delightfully chunky wet food for Kosmo, coffee for himself. Keith quickly settled in for a day of answering emails, before pausing at an unfamiliar address at the top of his inbox. 

_Shiro._

He nearly shoved his laptop right off his lap in his eagerness to click on the email, and Keith's eyes focused intently on the screen, one hand tense over his mouth as he scanned the lines of the short, friendly message.

_It's nice to meet you, Keith. I'm glad you've taken an interest in my work within the world of pup play. I ask all my potential clients for a few things first, of course…_

The email went on to explain the process of getting to know one another, the contracts they would build and sign together, the medical tests Shiro required before he played with anyone. It ended with an offer to video chat later that night, at a time convenient to Keith.

He wasted no time in replying, knowing he likely sounded way too ecstatic about the possibility of chatting with Shiro, but ending with a hopeful tone regardless, letting the man know he'd be free in the later hours of the night. Shiro replied almost immediately with the information needed to contact him, and they soon bid each other goodbye, Keith buzzing as he tried to focus on his work.

Routine had always been his answer to restlessness, but even the simple formula of work, walk Kosmo, eat, and work again was failing him now. Keith kept bouncing his leg, glancing at the clock in anticipation, as the hours slowly, slowly ticked by. Sometime in the evening he finally gave up, pulled up Shiro's website again, and started to scroll through the gallery. Men and women of all sizes and shapes dressed up in pretty pup gear, presenting themselves to a camera or master, or to each other. Keith's heart stopped when he settled on a rather innocent image, a picture of Shiro lovingly kissing the nose of someone in a pup hood, his eyes closed while the eyes peering out of the black leather gazed at him adoringly. It was that loving look that had Keith palming himself through his jeans, before he gave in and drew himself out of his boxers again, not even bothering with fully discarding his belt first.

Keith tried to keep his eyes open and focused on the picture as he worked himself up, but his eyes wanted to roll, squint shut, his back wanted to arch, and thank heaven he didn't have to deal with neighbors. Keith's thumb teased just under his head, massaging the ridges of skin there in deep, quick circles. He swiveled his hips, moaning through his bitten lip as he teased himself, before going back to dragging his fist fast and tight over his shaft.

“Ah-ahn…” Keith's head fell back as his muscles coiled, impossibly tight, almost painfully so. To be loved, to be cared for that way, by a master so attentive and loving as Shiro, to feel sleek material close against your skin, showing off each curve of your body, drawing eyes to admire you… Keith's hand pumped faster, and he toyed with his balls, rolling them over the calloused pads of his fingers as pressure built in his abdomen. To submit to the hood, the collar, being slipped over your head, a commanding hand on the sleek leather-

“Ooh, ooh _fuck_ , fuuuuck…” Keith's ragged cries were dragged from his throat with the pleasure as he reached his orgasm, muscles squeezing tight as he bucked his hips uselessly, over and over, come drawn from the head of his cock until it could only leak, and Keith's voice broke in a whimper as all the strength drained out of him, his body flushed with warmth and his skin alive with shivers. He could hardly drag himself up to take care of the mess, and it was a relief just to sit down again, the afterglow urging him to sink, to sleep, and Keith couldn't fight it as the world faded around him.

He woke to an upbeat, cheerful tone coming from his laptop. Keith blinked awake in confusion, squinting at the bright screen before him, and the first thing he noticed was Shiro's name printed boldly across the screen. It took a moment to realize it was time, Shiro was calling him, and Keith had been dead asleep just moments before.

He shot up, quickly combing his hair into place with his fingers, prayed that there were no embarrassing red marks on his face, and answered on the last ring.

Shiro's smiling face greeted him in an instant, and Keith found himself grinning back, his worries melting away.

“Hey there, Keith. Nice to finally see you.” Shiro's voice, as soft and warm as ever, was music to his ears.

“And you. Sorry I almost missed you,” Keith said genuinely, and his smile softened when a hearty laugh came from his speakers. Shiro's eyes lit up, his chest filled out, and his shoulders shook from the force. Keith decided he loved that laugh.

“I hope I didn't wake you. The last thing I want is to start bothering you when you least need it.” Keith hummed in response.

“It's on me. I got a little… excited, looking at your site again earlier.” At that, Shiro seemed to perk up even more, a spark of interest in his eyes. It was clear he was very into what he was doing.

“Yeah? You comfortable telling me what you did?”

“I jacked off. Teased myself,” Keith's voice grew low and rough around the edges, “Came, all from a single picture…” Shiro tilted his head, looking like a curious puppy himself.

“Which one?”

“It was of you- you were kissing some pup on the nose… you both just looked so happy…” He trailed off when Shiro's eyes softened with recognition, and he wore a smile as he nodded.

“I know the exact pic you're talking about. We were at Pride that day with a few other couples, one of whom snapped the picture when I wasn't paying attention. It ended up being a really nice photo, so I see.” Keith flushed, but he had to agree with the man. “So,” Shiro continued, and Keith refocused himself, meeting those gray eyes to let Shiro know he had his full attention, “As I said, I just wanted to talk and get to know you, your needs, your wants and expectations for our play before I decide to go forward with you. As well as ensure you're not out to murder me and chop me up into little pieces,” Shiro quirked a grin over his folded hands, one sleek white metal and plastic, “I'm sure you've got the same concerns. Comfort and safety is always my number one priority.” Keith was already nodding.

“I understand. It's mine, too. As for what I want out of pet play…” Keith flushed a bit, it'd been a long while since he had any kind of discussion about kink or sex at all, and saying it out loud to a mostly silent home was a bit daunting. But Shiro needed to know, and so Keith would suck it up. “I want to relax, first and foremost. I've been told I need to let go, and I'm starting to see where that's coming from, even agree. I want a release, but I want it to come in a form that's safe, and… loving.” He admitted softly, his eyes downturned, and missed the gentle smile coaxed onto Shiro's face by the words. “But why I want it to be pet play… I want to find that headspace. I want to be a pup, and I want to achieve it your way.” Violet eyes met gray again. 

“I read everything I could before contacting you. I'm intrigued by and attracted to the way you do things… I'm not feeling one hundred percent about all of it, but I believe you could be someone I'm comfortable with, safe with. I'm willing to put the effort in…” Keith let his words fade away when he saw the look on Shiro's face, the man's eyes brimming with what looked like… pride? “Did I… say something wrong?” Keith asked roughly, his eyes searching Shiro's.

“You said everything right.” Shiro answered, happiness in his voice so tangible Keith nearly swooned. “So often I meet people with intense expectations and high demands, people who believe this is the means to some sexual end of theirs and, while it can be, I've found much more success with those who are open minded, ready to see what the experience can give them, rather than trying to mold the experience into something else. I'd love to work with you, Keith.” His heart pounded wildly in his chest. 

“Yeah… Okay, then.” Keith answered, a small, confident smile on his face. “What do you want to know?”

Apparently, a lot. Keith wouldn't have expected any less. Shiro drilled him on his sexual experience and knowledge, not in some attempt to find a perfect slave, he clarified, so much as to know where Keith was at, to adapt and settle on the same page as him. Shiro wanted to know his kinks, his desires, his fantasies, and divulged his own in turn, pup play of course being the greatest of them all. He'd been participating in kinky sex, Shiro divulged, since the young age of seventeen, and had started his business- “If you can call it that,” he'd added playfully- when he was just twenty-two. 

Keith revealed his loss of virginity at just sixteen, his introduction to kink soon after, his two failed relationships, both of which had been very serious and very sensual. For everything Keith gave, Shiro answered with information of his own, always keeping them on equal grounds, offering encouragement and empathy when he sensed Keith needed it. Keith was left feeling understood without having his mind picked, cushioned without being patronized. It was thrilling, really, and when their talk of kink moved to a general idea of physical health and limits, Keith had already learned he was safe to share with Shiro, and was talking easily with him. It took Keith yawning, not even bothering to cover it up, for them both to realize how late it had become, and Shiro shot an apologetic smile at Keith through the screen.

“This has been good.” He said. “But I'm sure you're beat. We can continue tomorrow… Same time?” Sunday. Keith would have to wake up early for work the next day.

“The morning would probably be easier.” It was so simple, letting Shiro know this fact, whereas with anyone else Keith would have felt guilty, like he was demanding too much. It didn't surprise him when Shiro only nodded in understanding.

“Then I'll call you as soon as I get out of church,” Shiro said, deadpan, and in the next instant they were both laughing together, loud and bright and true.

Their talk the next day gradually moved from the necessities- Shiro needed to know about Keith's occasional knee and back pain, of course- to their personal lives, which Shiro had sworn would be protected in more ways than one. Shiro had grown up raised by his single grandfather, had been one of the brightest minds in high school, only for his beloved guardian to pass away, leaving him with nothing and forcing him into the military. He'd excelled in boot camp, and had been told yet again he had a bright future, before losing his arm to stray shrapnel while rescuing a fellow soldier just four months into his service. For the second time in his life, Shiro had struggled, with recovery both physical and emotional, and would likely suffer from PTS for the remainder of his lifetime.

He didn't sulk, however, in fact encouraging Keith to ask questions, and in return Keith instead opened up about himself. He told Shiro of his mother leaving long before he'd ever been old enough to form memories of her himself, of his father's death as a hero, of his time in the homes subjected to neglect and mistreatment, not only from his peers but from the adults put in place to protect him, too. Shiro's empathy returned again, and when Keith mentioned the arts and humanities projects he'd been participating in since high school, he could sense genuine happiness and pride in Shiro's tone when he congratulated Keith on pulling himself out of it all.

It was well into the afternoon when Shiro suddenly paused mid-sentence while talking about his cats, grinning brightly and leaning forward to type quickly.

“Hold on- I've got to go, but I'm sending you my number. Message me anytime.” Keith brightened.

“Okay. Yeah, will do.” The call ended, and Keith fell back onto the couch, grinning at the ceiling and feeling his cheeks flushing a deep rosy red. He groaned contentedly, reaching up to cover his face and stretching. He and Shiro had really hit it off. Speaking of- he should message the guy, before he inevitably forgot. Keith bit his lip, changing his initial first line over and over again in his head, before simply settling for the first that had come to mind.

_Hey. It's Keith._

As usual, Shiro responded almost immediately, a picture of a small, stocky looking red and white puppy with perky ears, and the caption below it:

_Happy to hear from you. By the way- I'd like to meet up._

Keith took a moment to indulge in the urge to cradle his phone close to his heart, before grinning wide and messaging Shiro back in order to make some plans.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Shiro go on their first date, and quite possibly a second

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The one where our precious protagonists finally meet up! This was a fun one, hope you all enjoy it <3 Tentative posting schedule will be about twice a week, with the week beginning on a Sunday and ending on Saturday, but don't hold me to it just yet

“With these new changes, we will be able to move forward with the knowledge that future incidents are well handled and under control on our project sites, and that the safety of our workers is guaranteed, from here on out.” The mic squealed with feedback when Keith finished, but it was drowned by the smattering of obligatory applause in the hall, crowded with workers all wearing the same bright green shirts, the company name printed across the chest. He'd been correct about Friday's incident becoming a big deal- he and Lance had driven to nine projects this far. He had been stuck giving the ridiculous speeches on some changes to the protocol- he was the subordinate, Lance had pointed out- while Lance got the easy job of checking progress, security, and morale at each site. Their system was efficient; they were making good time, but it was likely they'd be traveling all over the city for the rest of the week, cleaning up the mess.

Keith was more than relieved to slink his way out of the building that served as this particular project's site, meeting Lance on the way and walking in step with him back to their van. Once in the passenger's seat, Keith could finally relax with the knowledge the work day was over- and Shiro had promised another video chat the moment Keith returned home again. Practically glowing at the thought, Keith closed his eyes, a faint smile on his face, and sighed dreamily.

“Woah,” Lance's voice interrupted his fantasy of gray eyes and a warm voice, “What is that? A happy noise from Keith Kogane? On a _Monday?_ ” Keith didn't open his eyes.

“Shut up, Lance,” he said cheerfully.

“Woah,” Lance repeated, “You actually relaxed this weekend, didn't you?” Keith scowled. “Come on, what was it? What did you do?”

“None of your business.”

“I genuinely cannot imagine you in any sort of fun or relaxing situation.”

“...Yeah, guess you could say I relaxed.” Keith admitted quietly, staring sheepishly out the window. He could feel Lance's eyes studying him, wished he'd look back at the road. Keith's cheeks began to heat up under the gaze. A dramatic gasp from the other confirmed Keith's worst fears- Lance had figured him out.

“You met Shiro!” He heaved a sigh.

“Yeah, fine, alright? I met Shiro. Talked with him a little.”

“Ooooh, oh you for sure _relaxed_ alright. Look at you!” Keith instead studied the chain around Lance's neck. He didn't seem to notice. “I told you so, Keith. I did. Even you've gotta admit I was right this time-” Keith let Lance have this one, tipping his head back against the seat and letting the air conditioning soothe him from the heat, his eyes closed and a blissful little smile on his face as Lance went on. It was still in place when Lance dropped him off, said his goodbyes for the day.

Once back from his walk with Kosmo, in the midst of settling down to call Shiro, Keith saw a missed message from his mom, about the time he'd arrived home and parted from Lance. He sent a quick text, letting his new… acquaintance… know he would be a little late, and then dialed Krolia.

The phone rang harshly in his ear. And rang. And rang. Finally, her voice reached his ears, but it was only a pre-recorded message telling him she was away and to leave a message. Keith hesitated guiltily, reaching up to rub at his arm, before the tone startled him, and it was too late to simply hang up, too fast for him to think of what to say.

“Uh, h-hey, mom.” He stammered, eyes wide. “Uhm, it's… Keith. But you probably knew that, heh…” He paused, a long, awkward silence. “...I saw your missed call. Guess you… know that, too. I know I was supposed to be off work by then, I must've been distracted… I'm, uh, sorry about that. But, uh, just call me later tonight, I guess?” He frowned. “I mean, if you can. No pressure.” He paused again, sighing in defeat. “Love you.” The phone toned sadly as he hung up.

Keith slowly let his hand drop, and then let the phone slip from his fingers. He hated phone calls. What kind of pathetic fool couldn't speak to their own mother on the phone? Keith blinked as tears burned at his eyes. Perfect. He couldn't call Shiro like this. Kosmo, as if sensing his pain, suddenly trotted up to him, shoving his nose under Keith's hand with a whine. _Keep it together. You can do this._ Keith breathed deep and slow, as much as the pressure in his chest and the lump in his throat made it hurt. He stroked Kosmo's fur to keep his hands busy, and slowly, they stopped shaking. Only a few tears had eked out of his eyes, and he blinked them away, smiling at Kosmo and sniffling shakily.

“Hey, buddy. I'm alright.” He promised at a whisper, hugging Kosmo close. The dog licked the tears from his face, probably just seeking the taste of salt, but Keith liked to believe it was because he cared. “Thanks, cozy Kosmo,” Keith let his voice drop into a ridiculously goofy tone, and Kosmo immediately started wagging his tail. The two of them rough housed there for a moment, and both froze and looked up when Keith's phone chimed. 

_Shiro._

Asking if everything was okay. Okay. He could do this. Keith picked up his phone. 

_Tell you about it over the call._

It wasn't long before Shiro's gentle, worried face appeared on his laptop screen, before momentarily dissolving into a smile at the sight of Keith- he'd hoisted Kosmo up onto the sofa with him, and the massive beast had done his best impression of a lap dog, curling up squarely on Keith's lap and managing to cover his chest as well. Keith had to peer around a large mass of fur to see Shiro, and smiled back. 

“Who's this handsome fellow?” Shiro asked brightly, his smile a bit more cautious now. Keith, wanting to reassure him, let his eyes droop and smiled a bit.

“I believe we've already met, Mr. Shirogane.” The pink flush that spread across his face made Keith glow with pride, and he was greeted with a knowing smirk in the next second, apparently having succeeded at putting Shiro at ease. As he hadn't seen Kosmo yet, Keith did his best to introduce the dog, speaking through the tail wagging in his face and the occasional, unfortunately placed kiss right to his mouth. “Ugh, Kosmo! Sicko Kosmo, knock that off-” Keith hadn't realized he was baby talking until he heard Shiro's laughter, and flushed.

“You're both adorable.”

“Ha.” Keith rolled his eyes. “You sound like you don't own any actual dogs.”

“Nope, no biodogs here. But I do have…” Shiro held up his pointer finger, before darting off, and Keith was left to stare in interest after him. A few seconds later, a very tolerant and patient-looking cat appeared on the screen, held by Shiro, who was grinning widely. “Meet Atlas.” The cat settled as soon as Shiro did, perched lightly on his chest and purring away like a little motorboat. She was huge, with alarmingly long, snow white fur and gorgeous hazel eyes. 

“She… is gorgeous.” Keith said in awe, staring at the cat. Shiro grinned. 

“Thanks. She's a real showstopper, that's for sure… I see she's cheered you up.” Keith paused, then remembered his upset over his mother's phone call. He dimmed again, and after a moment, Shiro gently prompted, “You wanted to talk to me about it, right? I'd be happy to listen, Keith.”

“Just… missed a call from my mother. My biological mother,” he clarified needlessly, but Shiro only looked at him, open and patient. “We haven't spoken in a week. Haven't spoken much in a month, we keep missing each other. It makes me feel guilty…”

“Why?” Shiro prompted again, when Keith trailed off, Atlas’ purring growing louder as the man began to scratch under the cat's chin.

“I was the one to seek her out, the moment I turned eighteen. But even these last few years haven't really made things less… awkward.” Shiro blinked, his eyes friendly as always, and it made Keith want to go on, “I love her. I think she's amazing. Everything anyone could ask for, in a mother. But I… guess I'm still hurt that she left in the first place. That she never returned. That I had to see dad's death alone, had to go to the homes, had to be alone all those years…” Shiro offered no judgement or contradiction to this, and Keith finished, “I want to make more of an effort to fix things. I want the relationship I know we can have. But…” He shrugged. “In theory, it shouldn't be so difficult. In practice, it… never really comes around.” Keith was hit with a wave of regret then, for pouring out something so personal, for dumping all this on Shiro. He probably looked so weak…

“Keith,” Shiro sighed, but it wasn't a disappointed sound. It was full of affection, of care, and it made Keith look back up from where he'd bowed his head. “Reconnecting with her… with any family, is not a requirement of you. You don't have to do that for other people, but the fact that you are, and you're doing so because you want to, and not out of guilt… I think that makes you an amazingly good person, not a bad one.” Shiro offered a smile that was all teeth at the end of his little speech, and Keith's felt himself growing lighter.

“...Thank you. You don't know how much that means to me.” Shiro nodded, burying his grin in Atlas' fur and nuzzling her close.

Their conversation again went long into the night, Shiro’s voice continuing on melodically in the background as Keith switched to working on his reports. Conversation ranged from their talk of Krolia to Keith's day at work, to Shiro's story of meeting Atlas as a dirty, abandoned kitten with a broken leg in a pitiful shelter and raising her to the beauty she was currently, to the subject of their favorite places in the city, from clubs and restaurants to parks and even, on Shiro's part, museums.

“Seriously? Museums?” Keith asked with a grin, wrinkling his nose, and flushing when Shiro pouted back at him.

“Hey, they can be intriguing. Ever been to the flight museum on Valencia?”

“I didn't even _know_ there was a flight museum on Valencia.” Keith paused. “Or anywhere near here.” Shiro chuckled.

“You'll definitely have to go sometime. History and the future, blending together…”

“I think it'd be more interesting with you there.” 

Shiro considered this, before giving in with a shrug and a nod.

“Then I'll take you some time. Speaking of…” Keith perked up with interest again. “Meeting up.” His heart stopped. “I know you said you're off on weekends,” Shiro continued, “Saturday morning, that coffee place just on the edge of the city? You can bring a friend if you're still worried.”

He wasn't. But he figured it couldn't hurt.

“Yeah. That sounds great.”

“Great,” Shiro said, with feeling, and they bid each other goodnight.

The week continued on in much the same pattern as before, only now every other day- Keith had to keep up with his work, of course, Shiro worked entirely from home- the monotony and stress was interrupted for a time to be replaced with Shiro smiling at him through his computer screen, or a picture of some cute dog or cat being sent to his phone in the worst moments of the day. The subject of their calls continued to range, from kink and desires to more tame subjects once again. The week seemed to drag on with something to look forward to, but it helped that Shiro was often right there to cheer him up.

“I need to ask you something,” had been Keith's greeting to Lance the next time he'd slipped into the passenger's seat of the dreaded van.

“Uh oh.”

“Shut up. I've got a-” Keith faltered, bracing himself for the teasing sure to come, “I’ve got a date with Shiro this Saturday morning. We're-” Keith cringed as Lance practically _squealed_ in delight, “-We're going to meet up for coffee-”

“A coffee date? Really, Keith?” Lance groaned. 

“Look, since this was your idea, I was going to ask if you'd come with me.” Keith's voice quieted. It'd been a while since he'd had to ask anyone for this, but you could never be too safe. “Be there, in case anything goes South.” It hurt him to speak that way about Shiro, but at least Lance didn't contradict him or try to insist not to worry. Lance only nodded.

“I'll bring Allura. If that's cool with you. It could be like a double date!” Keith allowed himself one small smile.

“Thanks, Lance.”

“Now, as for your choice in date locations, _and_ attire-”

Keith made it nearly to the end of the week before he broke. 

_I know our relationship thus far is meant to be strictly friendly and professional..._

Shiro responded almost immediately.

 _Touched yourself to one of my pictures again, did you?_ Keith flushed down at his phone. Cocky bastard.

_Not yet._

_You know you don't need my permission for that._

Keith took a deep breath.

 _Good. That's not what I'm asking._ His thumb hovered over the send button for a moment, before he quickly pressed it, before he could change his mind. The seconds dragged on, each one increasing his anxiety and panic. To think he'd just ruined such a great relationship, due to his own selfishness- Keith's phone chimed then, and he jumped.

 _What are you asking, pup?_ Oh, shit.

 _What you'd do to me. If you were here right now._ Keith could almost hear Shiro's laugh at how ridiculously cliché his words were. What came instead had him stiffening, slowly laying back on the couch.

 _Strip you down, order you onto all fours. Run my hands over your body. Got to check for any tension or strain, of course._ Keith's hand shook as he typed out his response.

_Of course._

_What I do next would depend on how you're feeling. Talk to you, kiss you, pet you. Get you nice and relaxed. Then the fun would start._

Keith's hand slipped south. _And what do you find fun, Sir?_ The pause made him grin now. Keith had returned to Shiro's website time and again to learn more and more, and each visit had garnered clearer results. Shiro liked being referred to as Sir by his pups. Keith was happy to deliver.

_I find it's very fun to put pups with a mouth on them to good use._

Keith groaned softly, grinding the heel of his palm down on the bulge forming in his pants, before quickly withdrawing. They hadn't discussed this.

 _Sir, may I touch myself to this?_ No please, he didn't want to put any pressure on Shiro to comply. Comfort was the priority, it always had been, for both of them. Maybe that was why they worked so well together. Keith's fears were eased within seconds, replaced with a spike of arousal.

_You may. Do you mind if I do the same?_

“Oh, god…” Keith whispered to the air, immediately returning to palming himself. 

_I don't mind at all. Sir._

_Excellent. Now, where was I..?_

_You were kissing me_ , Keith wet his lips, face aflame. _Calming me down, about to have some fun putting my smart mouth to good use._ He hit send, then pondered it for a moment before tacking on, _Sir_.

_How could I forget? I haven't been able to stop thinking about that mouth of yours. I've noticed it's always running, even now, pup. Can you tell me why that is?_

_If you can elaborate on what you've been thinking about my mouth_ , Keith fired back, heat burning low in his stomach, spreading slowly throughout his veins.

_Keep thinking of all the smiles you've got hidden away. Thinking of unlocking them. Thinking of every moment something I've said has made you lick or bite your lip… Is this okay, Keith?_

_More than okay, Shiro. Please, keep going._

_Wanna see you smirking around my cock. At first, anyway. Be nice to put you in your place, pup. Watch that smile fade, watch you sink deep down into that headspace where only what you want and what I want matter. I want you desperate for it. Maybe I'll even give you a scratch behind the ears after, if you're a good boy._

Keith had shucked his clothing by now, it was too hot, and he had wrapped his fist firmly around his cock, pumping it quickly. His hand shook as he gripped tightly at his phone, grunting softly as he hurriedly typed out response.

_I want it. I want it all. Want to be yours…_

It didn't end there. Shiro continued on, painting visions in Keith's mind, seducing him with promises of loving care and incapacitating pleasure in the same breath, speaking bliss right into Keith's mind. He was on fire. He wished desperately he could return the favor, expressed this sentiment to Shiro, begged him for the ability, received promises of all he wanted and more.

Keith came blindly, hoarsely shouting his pleasure into the cushions, his teary faced pressed low, body turned, his hips and ass in the air. 

_You made me ruin my couch._

_Poor thing._

Despite himself, once cleaning up and half-heartedly donning a pair of sweats, Keith grinned down at the response, feeling warm and tingly all over, a sense of calm deadening his limbs. He hadn't realized just how tired he was. He wouldn't be surprised if he drifted off here, again. But first things first. Keith dragged himself back to an upright position, staring tiredly down at his phone. An extra message from Shiro awaited.

_You okay?_

_I feel amazing with you._ Maybe it was too much, but between the afterglow of his release and the disarming warmth Shiro seemed to carry with him at all times, Keith hit send without any hesitation. He had no reason to worry, it was confirmed again when his phone chimed brightly.

_Good. Now, why don't you get some rest? I'll be right here when you wake up again. <3_

Keith had to stare down at the little heart at the end for a moment, reeling ridiculously giddy. No man had ever texted him a heart before. It was disgusting. It was adorable. He loved it. Keith's hand came to rest over his mouth, as if he could hide his wide smile from himself, as he typed out his response.

_Yeah. Goodnight. <3_

After that night, Saturday morning seemed to sneak up on him, and Keith found himself blinking blearily awake that morning on the couch, having fallen asleep there chatting with Shiro, who had insisted on keeping contact with him- probably sensing Keith's lingering guilt over their earlier activities, and consistently doing everything he could to erase it. Keith had appreciated it immensely, and had made sure to relay as much to Shiro, who had responded with more reassurances and encouragement. Now, the sunlight streamed in through the curtains, burned at his eyes, as if to give a very enthusiastic _come on, today's the day!_

Lance had drilled him on everything- what to say, what to wear, how to act, even down to what he should order. Lance was a huge flirt, incredibly handsome, a hopeless romantic, and a self-proclaimed expert on style. So, naturally, Keith decided he was going to flat out ignore the guy's advice. Shiro seemed to like him just fine as he was- Keith hadn't once felt put down, out of place, or awkward with Shiro, and it was largely in part due to the effort the older man made to reassure him, almost on the daily now, that he was perfect just the way he was. The thought warmed Keith, Shiro managing to calm him even without needing to be there, and that was that. He took a fast, scalding shower, tied his hair back, and threw on his typical jacket and jeans. Shiro wanted _him_. Keith wasn't about to deny him that now.

Keith then sent a quick message to confirm that Shiro was awake- he was, albeit very groggy, if the sleepy selfie he sent Keith in response was anything to go by- and whether their double date was still on. Once he confirmed that it was, Keith spent his time throughout his morning chores staring happily down at the sight of that bedhead. What he'd give just to run his hands through it, to fix it or to make it worse, who cared? So long as he had his hands in Shiro's hair. Keith lounged around, reigning in his fantasies whenever they grew a bit too risqué- this was only going to be a quick meeting for coffee after all, and as Lance and Allura were going to be there, Keith doubted there'd be much talk or even acknowledgement of pet play at all.

He'd been wrong.

As soon as he heard Lance's familiar honking outside, Keith darted out, bidding Kosmo goodbye and approaching the car. Lance grinned smugly back, Allura smiling sweetly at him from the passenger's seat. Keith didn't need any prompting or hints. He took the backseat, the lovely couple's flirting in full view. Keith hadn't spent much time around Allura, but he'd grown to know her through Lance- he knew they'd been high school sweethearts, had dated through college, and were still horrifyingly deep in love, the kind that was put on full display, at all times. It could be sweet. When you had the option of escape, that was. Keith shifted uncomfortably every time Allura's long, slim fingers came to rest on Lance's thigh as he drove, or caressed over his arm. It was equally unnerving when, every time without fail, Lance would immediately tear his eyes from the very busy road to give her doe eyes the likes of which Keith had never before seen. The guy was so whipped.

At least he'd see Shiro soon.

Just how soon, Keith hadn't exactly prepared for. He was waiting outside the little shop when they arrived, dressed just as casually as Keith and somehow pulling it off at a level Keith hadn't realized was possible. He stared as Lance opened the car door for Allura, stooped down to flirt with her, their heads close and voices hushed. Keith ignored them. His eyes had locked with Shiro's, and he drifted forward, towards that warm smile, towards the sun. All his fantasies on how meeting Shiro in person would go just couldn't compete. He'd almost closed the distance between the two of them. Keith had to think of what to say. He'd just start with…

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself. It's so good to see you,” Shiro murmured, and hell, Keith could believe it when those eyes looked him up and down, Shiro's gaze gentle, but not at all hiding his intentions. Keith felt hot under his clothing. They were meeting. For the first time. And he was already doing everything all out of order. Allura and Lance were still hanging back, now trading lines, and Keith quickly stuck his hand out to shake, stiff. They'd made each other come, and yet it was somehow all he could manage. Shiro didn't falter for a second, gripping Keith's forearm with a smile, and suddenly, he was pulled into a whirlwind of a hug, enveloped by those strong arms. Keith was laughing and shoving playfully at Shiro before he'd even realized.

“You're as bad as Kosmo,” he teased, tucked under Shiro's chin when he couldn't get away. Shiro only hummed, and the sound reverberated through Keith's chest. 

“I'm excited.” Shiro whispered, and it sent a shiver down Keith's spine when that voice was suddenly right by his ear, and much quieter. “Can't wait to see where you take me.” He straightened up then, prosthetic slipping down to curl its digits with Keith's fingers, and Keith stared dazed up at Shiro.

“You're too much,” he said thickly, earning only a smile. Lance clearing his throat snapped Keith out of it, and he realized Allura and Lance had been much closer for much longer than he'd thought. They were all looking at him. Smiling. Keith wanted to demand what they were so damn happy about. Instead, he just scoffed and turned, grabbing Shiro's hand and pulling him along into the coffeeshop.

Keith volunteered to take everyone's order to the front, if only to get away from the knowing looks Lance was giving him. It helped that he may just impress Shiro with his kindness, too. He returned with three very sweet and colorful drinks, and one black coffee for himself. 

“Boo, Keith! Boring!” Keith ignored Lance, sitting in the empty space in the booth their little group had chosen. Of course it put him flush against Shiro, who seemed pleased. The conversation, as Keith had predicted, stayed light and well away from anything naughty. The place wasn't crowded- they could have gotten away with it- but it was much more intriguing to hear Shiro talk old memories with Lance and Allura- who really hadn't toned it down since leaving the car. Allura had a habit of twining the chain around her fingers, drawing Lance in for a kiss that was always excessively sweet and lingering, their eyes drifting shut and Lance's face turning impossibly soft each time. It was the same sort of feeling he'd gotten from the picture, of endless, unconditional love and care expressed in the simplest, yet sweetest way. It was what he would have with Shiro, before long. Keith turned then, trying to be subtle with his ogling, but Shiro was already gazing at him with what looked like pride, and when Keith met his eyes, they mellowed.

“What?” Keith dared to whisper. 

“You see it.”

“...I do.” 

“You want it.”

“Yes.” Keith's confession was barely more than a breath of air, but Shiro still gestured, and he slipped out of the booth, followed by the other man.

“We'll be right back,” Shiro promised the others. Keith scowled; they were completely absorbed in each other.

“Yooooou got it,” Lance drawled, his blue eyes fixed on Allura, who had his chain wound around her fingers again.

Shiro had made his way out into the summer heat, and Keith for once had to see Lance's point that a coffee date was maybe a bit questionable- especially when it was hot out. Shiro didn't seem to mind, and the way he relaxed, leaning up against the side of the building, made Keith do the same.

“I want to take you on, for sure.” 

“I'd like that. I'd like it a lot,” Keith answered. His eyes were on Shiro, and after a moment, their eyes met again.

“You're ready to officially go through the rules and negotiations with me?”

“Ready and willing.”

Shiro's smile returned, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the force of his delight. He turned, and it closed the already very short distance between the two of them, blocking Keith's view of the street. His heart pounded wildly in his chest as Shiro reached up, cupped his face. His thumb stroked absently over Keith's scar, and after a moment's hesitation, Keith leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and turning his head to press a kiss to Shiro's palm. He could almost feel the change in doing so.

“I know I'm not supposed to do this yet…” Shiro whispered, and Keith forgot all about the fact that they were meant to be on a double date, that they were out in the open, where anyone could see this happening. He forgot, and he didn't care, regardless. He recognized Shiro's hesitation as asking permission, and it was one more thing he didn't want to deny.

“Do it anyway.”

For a majority of his love life, Keith had hated kissing- it was too close and intimate, often sloppy and cold and wet. Lips smacked and teeth bit and people were often too bold with their tongues; he much preferred showing his affection in other ways. But Shiro didn't make him feel pressured, or unsafe, and he very clearly knew what he was doing. The first press forward of Shiro's lips had Keith's knees going weak, the second made his head spin. The third caused him to flush with heat, too much, and Keith opened his eyes when Shiro pulled away, his own lips parted and his hands clutching at Shiro's poor, previously unrumpled tee. He smoothed the fabric down, an apologetic action, and Shiro's fingers combed through his hair. Another kiss was pressed to Keith's forehead, and he basked in the affection, closing his eyes and smiling.

“One more thing,” Shiro murmured as he pulled away. Keith hardly trusted himself with his words, but he nodded and responded verbally anyway.

“Yeah. Anything.”

“You'll want a physical, and… when was the last time you had a blood test?”

“About a year ago. Right after my last sexual partner.” Keith kept his voice low as a group of runners passed by. No need to scare them off the streets. He took a deep breath. “So I'm due for it.” Shiro nodded.

“Most of my pups have all gone through the same doctor, one who's very professional and understanding of… all sorts.” Shiro quirked a smile. “He’ll work with you on payment, too.” Keith was already nodding.

“Sounds great.” He joked, and it was worth going to the doctor's for the first time in a year if Shiro would only keep laughing like that, slipping his arm around Keith's waist and kissing his forehead again.

“Good. I'll go with you, too. If you're comfortable with it. Be easier to get your results from you that way, and I don't think you want Lance driving you to this one.” Keith let out a amused noise of his own.

“You're a lifesaver.”

Keith made his appointment for the very next day, figuring why wait, and felt pride bloom in his chest when he made it through the call without stuttering a single time. Of course, Shiro had been right there, hand on his shoulder, to guide him on what to say, which tests to ask for. There was a lot on the list, Keith was asked by the nurse time and again if he wanted to stagger the tests he needed over the next few days, but that would mean several different co-pays. Besides, he wasn't some baby who couldn't handle a routine doctor's appointment.

Right?

“Wrong. So very wrong.” Keith complained hoarsely, his head buried in Shiro's shoulder. They were in the little examination room, Keith still in a gown and perched uncomfortably on the padded table, and once they had been left alone, Shiro had stood and walked over to Keith, comforting him with a hug and a little smile.

“I know, it's terrible.”

The physical had gone well enough- Keith's eyes, ears, nose and mouth checked with a terrifically bright light, his blood pressure and temperature were normal, his spine hadn't yet bent under the pressures of life. The blood test, despite involving a needle and several vials Keith had refused to look at, had gone just as smoothly. Then, he'd been led back to Shiro in the exam room, catching a mildly amused look in the man's eye when the nurse offered him the gown.

“Everyone's favorite part.” Shiro had declared brightly, and Keith had given him a look, a slight narrowing of his eyes, before he'd caught his meaning. Then, the doctor had drawn a curtain that separated the room into two halves, blocking off Keith's view of Shiro. It was over soon enough, and Keith had endured the next part of the exam with a slight ache and a pesky cough, causing a bit of trouble as swabs were taken from his nose, mouth, and several different, _unique_ places on his skin. And then, the greatest news of all- Keith was due for two vaccines for some very frightening-sounding viruses that became _more of a potential_ when engaging in his choice of activities. He'd swiftly agreed to them, and if he wanted comfort from Shiro while aching in several different places, well, sue him. At least Shiro seemed happy to provide.

“I was poked three times today.” Keith grumbled. “That's three times as many needles I've seen in the past three _years_.”

“And you were so brave.”

“I was fondled and prodded and violated.”

“It's all over now. At least for another year.” Shiro joked, his hand smoothing up and down Keith's back. It felt nice. Everything about Shiro felt nice. They were released to leave soon after, and walked back to Shiro's car hand in hand, Keith still grumbling quietly and nuzzling into Shiro's shoulder. Who could blame him, when it got him so many quiet words and soft kisses? Once seated in the car, he read over Shiro's medical files- he'd shown up with them, and they'd traded. The paper was dated a few weeks ago, around the time they had met. Keith glanced over at Shiro, suspicion dancing playfully in his eyes.

“You really do plan ahead.” There was that blush again, a lovely rosy pink. 

“I dared to hope. It worked out, didn't it?” Keith grinned and turned his eyes back to the road in front of them.

“That it did.”

They didn't head home, however. Instead, Keith was left to gawk in surprise when Shiro pulled through the driveway of an ice cream parlor, aptly named _Mint to Be_.

“Favorite flavor?”

“Holy shit,” Keith was laughing, “Are you serious?”

“Everyone deserves ice cream after a shot, right?” He should be insisting he wasn't a kid. But Keith had already revealed himself to secretly be quite possibly the softest scary-looking guy in the city, had baby talked his dog in front of Shiro, complained about his checkup, had spilled his soul of all the anxieties and worries known to man that lived in his heart. Some frozen cookie dough in a waffle cone wasn't exactly going to ruin Shiro's perception of him now.

They ordered, Shiro fawning over some vanilla and caramel monstrosity that looked more like it was going to come to life and eat them than to go quietly. Shiro drove them to a park next, and they sat on the hood of his car, watching the sunset color the landscape red and gold, and eating their way through the waffle cones neither had realized would be as massive as they were. 

“Now would be our time to set a date for when your training begins, pup.” Shiro said slyly. He nibbled delicately at his cone, his eyes watching Keith, who was already shifting again, heat burning in his core.

“I hope our typical Saturday morning will suffice.”

“It will. It'll be an easy day for both of us. We'll just go over the basics; rules, communication and safewords, negotiations of our contract and limits, the gear you'll need to get, some exercises to get yourself prepared… All easy stuff.”

“Still going to spend the whole week on edge.” Keith confessed quietly. The laugh he attempted to pair it with fell flat. 

“Hey, Keith. Look at me.”

He did, and the scene eased his heart. Shiro was glowing golden in the light, his eyes catching the sun's rays and turning a rich, warm gray that pulled Keith in, made him angle his body to face Shiro's. Unprompted, Shiro rested his prosthetic against Keith's scar again, and Keith again leaned into the touch.

“We'll take care of that, too. We'll make it through anything that ails us, together. That's my promise to you, as my pup, yeah, but also as your friend.” Keith's heart was at risk of spilling over, and he was sure it did, sure that it showed in his eyes and the conviction in his voice. 

“I'll do everything in my power to return that care and respect, Shiro. Always.”

The sun was going down, flaring brightly one last time as it disappeared over the horizon, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world that they should share one more kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's first session with Shiro- will it go as planned?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's still Christmas here and so I wanted to get this out to you all before the end of the day- enjoy an extra-long chapter, and Happy Holidays to all!

_Yeah, this is totally going great_. Keith couldn't reign in his negative thoughts as he finished up yet another speech at yet another podium. He hadn't been booed off- yet- but he had been greeted with murmurs and giggles all throughout the recital of the safety policy, and a wad of paper thrown in his general direction at one point. Keith found it in him to at least wait until he'd returned to Lance to collapse forward, his head in his hands. He groaned then, loud and heavy.

“Hey. Just ignore them.” Lance was softer today, gentler, as if he could see much deeper than Keith's outward sulking. “They'll settle down soon enough, Keith.”

“I…” Keith swallowed, running his hands roughly over his face and pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I don't know.”

“Well, I do.” Lance retorted, drawing himself back and sitting up straight, his arms crossed. Keith turned his head and glared at the grin plastered on his face. “You were chosen for this job for a reason, Keith. Remember that.” Keith's features mellowed then.

“I guess… This isn't the only reason I'm in a bad mood.” He admitted. “...I start training with Shiro on Saturday.” 

“Oh, my gosh. Keith, that's amazing! Congratulations.” Lance was beaming at him now, drifting out of the lane, and Keith gripped tightly at the door.

“ _Please_ keep your eyes on the road.” His plea went largely ignored.

“I am so happy for you, man. Like, you don't even know.”

“I'm terrified.”

“Well, don't be. It's usually very relaxing and freeing.”

“I'm worried I'll do something wrong. Screw up,” Keith mumbled, dragging one hand over his face again. “I'll fail to please him.”

“Hey, come on. That's what he's there for. I mean the entire point of having your Princess- er, your handler with you, is for guidance. Direction. You literally can't get it wrong, because they're right there with you the whole way, making sure you're doing exactly what you need.” Lance's eyes were going soft again, and Keith noticed he'd relaxed, his shoulders dropping, his gaze back on the road, his driving smoother. “You're safe. As long as you continue to communicate with Shiro and let him guide you, it'll be… _such_ a rewarding experience.” Lance's voice had changed, had grown deeper, more passionate, and before he could even think to blush Keith's question was slipping free.

“You keep saying stuff like that. Elaborate.”

“Well, you know. I trained with Allura. We'd been together for years at the time, we were interested, and we went to Shiro to learn how to play out our roles.” Lance must have caught a glance of Keith's expression out of the corner of his eye, because he turned then. “He didn't do anything sexual with us. Not much. When you go through his lessons with a partner, he focuses on instructing, only gets hands-on when absolutely necessary. Most of what happened, Allura was the one in control.” Lance didn't seem embarrassed by this, and in fact seemed rather eager, and happy to talk about it. “When you reach that headspace… it's another level of existence. You give up so much of yourself… but your handler is there to hold you, protect what's left. It's…” Lance shook his head, his chain clinking. “It's indescribable.”

Keith didn't answer, staying silent for the rest of the drive home, thinking. He did so much thinking these days. If what Lance was saying was true, this would be heaven, not hell. But anxiety still had him tight in its grip, sickening, and Keith just couldn't think of a way out. They pulled up to the little old house then, dust settling as Lance put the car in park, Kosmo's deep barking reaching them even out here. Lance turned to Keith then.

“You should talk to Shiro about all of this.”

“We've been talking constantly. About everything, but especially about this… fear, of mine.”

“So talk some more. Let him know you're still struggling with it.”

“I don't want to be a burden on him…”

“Hey.” Lance slammed his hand down on the wheel, causing Keith to jump. “You've got to shut that thinking down right now, Keith. Without completely honest communication, you may as well not have done any of this. It's the basis of everything you're going to go through with him.” Lance softened then, and Keith slowly relaxed from the bristly position he'd found himself in. “This is Shiro's job. He's a caring person, he would want nothing more for you to come to you with your problems, and to let him help you.”

Keith finally let himself breathe.

“Thanks, Lance…” It wasn't long before he was inside, pulling his phone free of his pocket.

_Hey, Shiro? Can we talk later? Just got a few things to do first._

Next came the hard part. Keith stared down at his phone for a minute, swallowing hard, before he navigated to Krolia's contact, his phone hovering over the call button. Should he? Most likely. Could he? Keith wasn't sure. He growled at his own indecision then, and hit call fiercely before he could back out of it. Keith then waited, his chest tight, as the phone rang… and as before, continued to ring, until Krolia's voice droned mechanically in his ear, telling the caller she was busy and to leave a message. Keith hung up and tossed his phone aside, breathing heavily for a few moments and willing himself to calm down. It happened. It was fine. Had become the norm, even. There was really no reason to be upset- he hadn't answered a call from her just the other day. And yet, here he was. Keith suddenly stood, barking Kosmo's name and snatching his lead from the hook on the wall. He had to get his mind on something else. He had to forget about this.

And forget he did.

Kosmo was notoriously bad at fetch- four years together now, and Keith had managed to train the poor mutt to do everything from sit and shake to the harder stuff like heel and wait. But the dog just couldn't fetch.

Keith gave up after the fourth attempt at getting Kosmo to find the stick he'd sent hurling across the little desert clearing, doubled over and cackling as the ridiculously large dog spun back and forth, his ears and tail up, strands of drool flying excitedly from his mouth as he turned around and around, yipping excitedly. Keith could see Kosmo didn't have to know how to play fetch to enjoy it. It was endearing, in a way, and still an incredible source of amusement. Feeling a bit better, Keith nonetheless sobered up again when he remembered his promise to talk to Shiro. Oh well. He'd just have to buck up and do it. It was as Lance said, it was for the best. Keith managed to reign Kosmo back in, gangly limbs and all, and the dog continued to bound around excitedly even after they'd gone inside. Keith, rather than try to force him to be calm, wrestled and smooched and hugged him until even Kosmo had expended all his energy and flopped down on his bed, panting and thumping his tail on the floor whenever Keith walked past.

He settled down then, progress reports to be done after all, and texted Shiro, nervously stuffing his face with the first source of prepackaged, processed food he'd come into contact with- a bag of chips. As expected, there was a message from Shiro there, waiting for him.

_Take your time, Keith. You know you can tell me anything._

He did. He did know that, completely.

_I'm just… nervous. Still. Incredibly so, to the point of being sick to my stomach. I want to do this, I do. That's not the issue at all. I just don't want to mess it up._

Hesitation, and then he hit send. The minutes stretched on dreadfully, and Keith felt as though he was falling apart at the seams trying to stay focused on his work- then, the merciful buzz of a message received.

_Do you mind if I call you?_

Perfect. He had definitely said something wrong. Keith shut the thought down as Lance had told him to, almost violently so, and gave Shiro the go ahead. Not a minute later, Shiro's name displayed itself proudly across his computer screen. Keith stared it down for just a moment, and then answered.

It began, as always, with their personal brand of small talk- cute dogs, their respective days at work, Atlas’ new obsession with a rubber band she'd found lying on the floor, Shiro's reluctance to take it away again. Keith could tell the more serious part of their conversation was coming when Shiro shifted in his chair, and laced his fingers together. He peered up over them at Keith, friendly and warm as ever. Just Shiro. It was only Shiro.

“I think it'll help you if I explain what we'll be doing Saturday, as well as what the headspace actually is and feels like, a little bit clearer.” He began, his eyes on Keith. “Is that okay?” Keith was already giving him a nod.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think that would help…”

“Alright. So, Saturday morning. It's going to be very tame, very calm. Most of our time is going to be spent on paperwork. We're going to draft out everything- everything you're permitting me to do, every safeword and signal we decide on, every rule and limit and regulation. I'll guide you through every part of it, and we'll both sign our names at the end. Really, any other subject and it would be boring.” Shiro displayed his trademark crooked smile, winked, and Keith felt himself starting to smolder. “But we both enjoy discussing kink, so it will be good. Might take longer if we want to hammer out more details because of it, but I see that as a good thing. It won't be boring, but it will at least be mundane enough that, I hope, you'll be pretty calm by the end of it.” 

Keith could only nod, wondering what would come next.

“Next, I'm just going to show you the proper stance for when you're on all fours. Make sure your weight is balanced, your spine is straight, your neck isn't being strained, correct your posture if anything is wrong. Then we'll go through some basic maneuvers, stretches, spinal exercises and a little relaxation exercise to do each time before you play. Once I'm confident you'll be able to practice this stuff on your own at home, our day will be over. Very simple stuff.”

“You're giving me kink homework?” Keith asked, lighter now, and Shiro laughed brightly.

“In essence, yeah. Since we only meet once a week, and since this takes discipline, you'll often have to practice certain things daily, whether we can meet up for it or not. But I will be involved as often as possible, I can promise you that.” Shiro was growing nervous, and so Keith flashed him a dazzling smile, the one that made people look twice, the one he put on for his interview, the one that convinced people he was someone they wanted to get to know. It made Shiro turn pink, which was somehow more satisfying than all the rest of its uses put together.

“I can handle that.” Keith nearly drawled, and it had its desired effect, distracting Shiro and causing him to lose his train of thought momentarily. Keith watched, deeply satisfied, as the man collected himself. 

“Good, that's- good. Thank you, Keith.”

“Now, what about… the headspace?”

“That won't come until later on in your training. I focus on the basics first. But by means of explanation…” Shiro gathered his thoughts, and then continued, “It's like any other subspace in that you sink into your mind, in a way that allows your body and head to deal with the sensations of the scene- things like intense pleasure, pain, discomfort, humiliation. It's different from other subspaces in that, the role you are taking on is that of my pet. You'll be a pup. You'll let go of the things humans worry about, things like your job and your reputation and what behavior is socially acceptable. 

“Of course, this doesn't mean you give up your morals and become a raging criminal.” Shiro added, smiling a bit. “It's just a headspace, nothing more. You're building a persona, but not an entirely new personality. Putting on a mental mask. I'll help you achieve it by creating that headspace with you, and gradually guiding you deeper into it, with exercises both physical and mental. Everything we do will be with the goal in mind of getting you into a pup's headspace- bringing out the carefree, playful, loving side of yourself, and discarding the rest for a time. But know this, Keith,” he looked up at the sound of his name, Shiro's voice suddenly reverberating deeper into his core, “I will always have control of the situation, I will always have a grasp on you, a tether, and I will always pull you back. You can always end it, whenever you need, I'll be there. And rest assured, I never ask anything of my pups that I haven't done myself.”

Now _that_ was intriguing. Keith didn't speak up, though his piqued interest must have shone brightly through his eyes, through his body language, because Shiro was still smiling when he went on.

“You have questions. Go ahead and ask them.”

“Does that mean you're a pup?” Keith blurted. Shiro only made a fond little noise.

“When I trust someone to be my handler. Currently, my collar and hood are both still hanging in my closet, waiting to see sunlight again. Occasionally, I get into the headspace and play on my own, but really… it's just not the same.” Shiro drummed his fingers in his desk. “I know plenty of pups are able to enjoy lone play, but I'm not one of them. Everyone can play how they want, but I'm of the opinion that if you're going to be a pup, you're better off with your master's collar round your neck.” Shiro's eyes and voice alike went dark as he said this, what Keith had come to recognize as his Dom voice, along with his Sir's look, the one that bored right into Keith's soul and lit the coals on fire. Keith already felt like a dog, already felt owned, stooped forward, staring intently, nearly panting and drooling over Shiro with just a quietly spoken sentence. Luckily, his handler seemed to be feeling merciful tonight, and the lighter Shiro returned with a smile and an apologetic look. “I hope I have eased at least some of your worries.”

“You have.” Keith said confidently. “All of them.”

“I'm glad.” Shiro shifted again. “And if the anxiety comes back, just talk to me again. Simple as telling me you're feeling anxious. I'll talk to you. We'll work it out, as many times as it takes.” Keith's heart swelled under the absolute sincerity and love in those words, and he was sure he was beaming like an idiot as he thanked Shiro, promising to do just as he said, and ended the call. He was still smiling achingly wide as he returned to his routine for the evening. 

As it turned out, the day had yet more good news for him.

Just as Keith was settling into bed, the mass of hair and muscle that was Kosmo cuddled up to him, his phone buzzed, and Keith smiled and reached for his phone, figuring it was Shiro- he often awoke to missed goodnight texts with way too many emojis added in after he'd confessed to loving the hearts. What he saw instead set his heart beating in an entirely different way.

_Hi, Keith. I am so sorry I missed your call earlier, I was busy. But I would like to meet up with you. If Saturday is okay._

Krolia.

Keith felt elated, but at the same time groaned softly. Did it have to be Saturday? Fearing he was again missing his chance to grow closer to his mother, Keith sent his next text tentatively.

_I'm booked Saturday. But… does Sunday work?_

Fully expecting to get a no, Keith hit send, and was delighted only minutes later when the answer came.

_That will work. I will see you then._

Attached was a screenshot of an address, the little sandwich place his mom seemed to love to head to whenever they had lunch, as well as the time to meet, and Keith hugged Kosmo close, grinning fiercely into the mutt's fur.

As if life was trying to make up for his loads of tension at the start of the week, the rest went by smoothly, to the point of nearly being alarming. There were no further incidents at work, and in fact Keith began to enjoy himself again as the speeches turned to more physical work, often pacing the project perimeter with Lance and assessing safety and progress, inventory and public interest. He had gained Shiro's permission early on in the week to speak to Lance more deeply about pet play, and Lance, likewise, asked permission from both Allura and Shiro to speak of their sessions. They'd both readily agreed, and all four parties had virtually signed a quickly drawn-up contract that stated the terms- privacy and respect was important, and Lance and Keith would speak to each other and each other only about the contents of their sessions. 

Likewise, they'd update their handlers of anything they'd revealed to each other- for the time being, the conversations were mostly one-sided as Keith listened to Lance go on about the things he'd trained to do with Allura. What once would have sent him blushing and stuttering out a subject change now had Keith completely engrossed as he studied everything Lance said, intent on pleasing Shiro, who'd reassured Keith all of the discussion and paperwork had merely been a formality- the four of them had quickly grown to trust each other.

Keith could understand the necessity, and it granted him more freedoms than restrictions, so he had been happy to go along with it.

Shiro had also insisted on Keith's promise to talk whenever he grew anxious, and Keith had stuck to it- they spoke of his fears nearly every day, and every day, Keith went to bed with a smile plastered on his face from some reassuring word or witty quip Shiro had hit him with. That man was just too much.

Keith was oddly calm when Saturday morning came. He'd blinked blearily awake, registered what day it was, and had waited for the dread to come. It hadn't. After breakfast, another scalding shower, and a walk with Kosmo, it still hadn't settled in, and Keith had resigned himself to the fact that his emotions must have broken from all the stress of the week. Shiro had tacked on a list of things to bring with him with his goodnight text the previous night, and Keith pulled his phone free, going over it again. Comfortable clothing. A pen and a notepad. A water bottle. Simple enough. He scrambled around the house, gathering what he needed and stuffing it all into a spare bag, which he swung over his shoulder just before leaving, giving Kosmo a pat on the head before striding out the front door. Finally, something hit, but it wasn't dread. Keith made a beeline for the little shed-turned-garage attached to the side of the house, fiddling with the padlock and chains across the doors and forcing them open with a creak. 

Inside sat waiting an old dirt bike that had belonged to his dad. The fire engine red had faded over the years, and Keith had spent time tinkering on the vehicle, on and off, until it was street legal, but it he still held the same amount of admiration and reverence as he'd always felt for the old thing. Keith stepped forward, running his hand over the smooth metal and taking a deep breath. He hadn't asked Shiro or Lance for a ride, not today. He figured if he died on the way to Shiro's for the first time, for kink lessons of all things, would at least be amusing enough that he couldn't fault the universe for whatever happened. Keith stuffed his belongings into the saddlebags and pulled a helmet from a box of junk nearby, blowing off a cloud of dust and coughing loudly. Here went nothing. The drive was just as tense as he'd expected, even while navigating the back roads, but Keith felt the temptation to go faster, to push his luck, and by the time he pulled to a stop in front of Shiro's place it was more of a skid. His heart was pounding wildly and his chest was heaving as he pulled his helmet off, looked around. 

The house wasn't nearly as secluded as Keith's, but it was huge, with large, reflective windows and a fence lining the backyard that stood several yards tall, blocking out any activities that may go on back there. Keith grabbed his bag and, steeling himself, took his first step forward. He really shouldn't have been worried. The moment the door had opened Shiro had grinned wide, exclaiming his name as if Keith was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and had swept him up in a hug that brought them flush together, Shiro's arms tight and grounding around him. Keith wasn't a hugger, and yet he still returned the gesture eagerly, burying his face in Shiro's shoulder and smiling. Atlas trotted up next and Keith laughed lightly as she wailed up at them.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” he cooed, stooping down to offer his hand. She sniffed, contemplating his presence for a moment, before lovingly smashing her face into his hand, asking for pets. Keith, laughing now, happily obliged her, scratching under her chin and continuing to make soft cooing noises and clicks of his tongue. He could feel Shiro's eyes on him, watching, and Keith finally straightened. He was greeted by that gentle, proud smile, and for a moment, the two simply stared, taking each other in. It was Shiro who broke the spell with an apologetic little laugh.

“Oh, right. Let me take your stuff. I'll give you the grand tour.”

Keith gladly handed the bag over and kicked off his shoes, following Shiro deeper into his home, his eyes wandering. He caught several framed photos of a black cat, silvery whiskers coloring her muzzle, one of which had two dates etched into the wooden frame. The second listed just last year as her year of demise. Keith decided against asking, and turned his attention back to the tour. Where his cabin was cluttered, a mess of decades of belongings, evidence of lives lived, Shiro's place was neat and spotless. Where Keith's home was rustic and comfortingly earthy, Shiro's was modern, in mostly tones of white and pale gray, with some spots of calming sky blue here and there for a splash of color. There was no evidence of his other clients, or pet play, or any sort of family or life lived outside of this. His home only raised more questions, but Keith kept respectfully quiet as Shiro guided him through halls, to the kitchen, bathrooms, and living room. Atlas followed them throughout most of it, wailing for attention at every turn. Keith, his heart soft, often indulged her in a second. Shiro turned then, grabbing Keith's attention.

“I won't be showing you my bedroom- I hope you understand.”

“Of course.”

“All that's left is the play room.” Shiro said cheerfully, leading him towards where Keith had seen a garage connected to the house. His heart began to pound again. Keith wasn't sure what to expect- a sex dungeon, maybe, with black and red tones and scary-looking contraptions everywhere. He knew Shiro practiced kink other than pet play- but Keith relaxed the moment Shiro unlocked the door, gently shooing Atlas away with his foot and quickly guiding Keith inside, shutting the door behind him. The room was large and open, with a padded floor and hanging mats on the far wall. Beyond a few closets placed strategically in a corner, the place was exceedingly empty, and colored just like the rest of the house- white and gray, neutral tones. Keith took a step forward, looking around. It looked much more like a personal gym than a kink dungeon, and it put him at ease.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks. Put a lot into it,” Shiro admitted, sounding fond. “Sealed off and insulated it, added the padding, paint, installed the lights.” He reached around and flipped a switch, illuminating the room in bright, artificial sunlight. Keith made a tiny impressed noise. “I used to have white office lights, but it just looked too… clinical. This is much warmer. I always want this room to be comfortable, inviting.”

“You've done one hell of a job,” Keith murmured, pacing along, trailing his hand along the wall mats. He pushed, and they gave way, cool and plush beneath his hand. It made him want to sink into the material, but as Shiro was still lounging back against the door, Keith decided not to subject him to waiting any longer. “Time for the paperwork?” He asked, turning, and fixing Shiro with a smile again. He earned a nod in return, and Keith drifted back towards the door.

“We'll come back to it. Promise.”

Shiro led him back to the living room with an arm around his shoulders, and Keith leaned gratefully into the warm embrace, a smile on his face as they stumbled playfully through the house together, Atlas doing her best to wind her way through their legs at every possible moment. Keith sank down onto the sofa the moment they arrived, and Shiro left with promises of tea and plenty of paper to go through. Atlas settled down on his lap and, as they waited, Keith stroked under her chin and whispered to her until she purred loudly. They didn't have to wait long before Shiro returned, a packet tucked under his arm and a mug in each hand. Keith settled comfortably against him as he sat down, enjoying the sweet, soothing taste of honey mixed into his drink as they began. 

Keith had been prepared for the long process, and yet seeing their contract broken up into sections was more of a relief than he'd expected. There were leagues of information and agreements typed up on communication- the methods they'd use during and outside of play, the promise to always be completely open and honest. Next came Shiro's own personal rules, those he gave to every pup entering into his lessons, rules he wasn't flexible on at all.

“Our private, professional, business lives, any part of our lives outside our training- that's protected. We respect that of each other. There will be no using personal information against one another, or revealing it, under any circumstances,” Shiro murmured, fixing Keith with his clear gaze. “Of course, this is all a formality as you know,” he added, and Keith softened a fraction. “You don't strike me as the type at all, and I would never do such a thing to anyone. I know the harm it can cause.”

“So do I. I will never betray you,” Keith promised softly, earning himself a heavy, comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Now, limits,” Shiro continued on, “You expressed concerns about parts of your training-”

“The scent and territory training.” Keith answered. “I'm opting out of it.”

“Completely?”

“Yep.”

“Hard limit?”

“Currently,” Keith answered firm, “It is the hardest limit. I am not into piss, in any way, shape or form. At this point I'm not willing to bend on it, or anything associated with it.”

“Have you ever tried it?” Shiro's voice was all curiosity, and Keith could recognize he wasn't trying to push.

“No.” 

“Okay. Hey, of course. I'd never make you do anything you're not one hundred percent on.” Shiro reassured, and that hand was on his shoulder again, the thumb smoothing over the muscle. Keith relaxed, and nodded as he watched Shiro scribble his amendments directly onto the contract. Keith's own notes, much less extensive, lay beside him.

“Thank you, Shiro.”

Gear was next, and despite himself, it got Keith's heart racing. There was a lot, but Shiro had reassured him they'd take everything in stages, including the gear he'd have to buy and put on. Keith didn't have any qualms about any of the gear- the aesthetic intrigued him, as did the several variations, pieces, and uses of it all. There was only one concern…

“I do have an issue with claustrophobia.” Keith admitted softly. “Any hood I use will have to be… flexible. It's never caused any sort of attack, but you never know. I wouldn't want to get into a scene with you and freak out because my gear is too tight or restrictive.” Shiro nodded, scribbling some more.

“There are plenty of hoods and suits that can fit your needs. We can go muzzle only, ears only, we can find something that zips open around your mouth and nose. As for suits, there are plenty more that leave most of your skin free to the air.”

“I think I could work up to the more… concealing gear.” Remembering the importance of clarity then, Keith took a breath. “I want to work up to the more intense gear, with you.” The pleased look Shiro aimed his way had Keith warming down to the tips of his toes.

“So, beyond your anxiety, and an old injury in your left knee, there are no health issues to be concerned about? You don't smoke or do any drugs?”

Keith shook his head. “Only the occasional drink, and even that's rare.” More scribbling, and then Shiro sat up, and faced him.

“Then all I have left to say is this; I know kink can be relaxing. But it can't heal everything. It's not the answer, no big fix. That being said, I think relationships with people can be extremely helpful, and I think emotional connections are the most important part of any play, sexual or non, vanilla or kinky. I want this to be a loving relationship between the two of us, in and out of our sessions. I want our care to be mutual, I want to support you and in turn be supported by you. It's never just kink, it's never just sex. Not to me.”

“I'd love nothing more,” Keith's voice was hushed, his eyes swimming. “We're loving, we're friends, first and foremost. I treasure that above everything.”

He hadn't thought anyone could smile so wide.

“Then, all that's left is to sign it. Together.” Shiro pushed the paper towards him, as well as a pen, and Keith scribbled his name at the bottom, first in print, and then in thin, scrawling lines. Shiro followed, much neater, bolder, and swept Keith up in a hug again, his sudden movements and delighted laughter startling Atlas off the couch.

They had finished at midday, and Keith watched appreciatively as Shiro leaned back, stretching until his shoulder popped. 

“Well, that took long enough, mm? How do you feel about lunch?” Shiro had once proclaimed himself a terrible cook, but to see the confidence with which he offered was more than Keith wanted to squash. He had faith.

“I think that sounds great. Thank you.”

They toasted sandwiches for their meal, and if Keith had to flick a few specks of blackened bread from his own, he didn't mention it.

They spent a lot of time lounging on the couch after, Keith's head in Shiro's lap, a hand playing with his hair.

“Let me know once your stomach's settled.” Shiro's voice was light, soothing, and his fingers crooked and massaged at Keith's scalp, making him melt. “We'll head back to the play room and finish up the day with your stretches and exercises.”

“Mm. Will do.”

It wasn't long before the two of them were up and walking again, Shiro in front, Keith following dutifully behind. They carefully slipped into the playroom again, leaving Atlas outside to eventually grow bored and pad away, and Keith watched as Shiro headed to one of the closets, unlocking and opening one up to pull a folded table from the depths. He brought it to the center of the room, carefully setting it up, testing the supports with his entire weight thrown down on it a few times. Finally satisfied, Shiro went back to the closets, and returned with a rolled up mat, which he unrolled and strapped to the table.

“Now remember, just a few tame exercises today. You'll do amazingly with them.” He patted the table then. “Up here. All fours.” Keith obeyed. It was astounding. All he had to do was listen. Shiro approached, and began to run his hands over Keith's body then, explaining as he went, “We don't want anything going on that's going to cause you pain or long-term damage. That means weight equally balanced across both your hands and knees, no straining your neck- keep it level, or keep it lowered. Never try to look up at anything when you're in this position.” 

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy. Now, I want you to ease back just a little.” His hand planted itself on Keith's chest, nearly spanning the entire space there, and pulled gently. “Angle your body upright a little, bring your hands back, but keep them planted. Rest your weight on your knuckles. That's it.” Shiro began to stroke smoothly over Keith's chest, rubbing in large, slow circles, and he swayed with the movement, eyes drifting shut. “Very good. You're doing very well. Final one, sit up a little more for me. Hands on your thighs. This one's much easier on your neck if you need to look up. Relax your hands a little- your fingers should be curled, but there's no need to form a tight fist.” Keith knew he'd followed Shiro's instructions when the circles started up on his chest again, as soothing as they were exciting, and Shiro continued drilling him on the three positions until he was satisfied.

“You'll learn more later, but these will do for now. You're doing great.” Shiro murmured. Keith could feel him start to pet down his spine, and he hummed softly, closing his eyes again.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“The next exercise is a bit like meditation. You'll start on all fours- go ahead, pup.” Keith shifted his weight forward, pushing his hands back to their original positions. “Good boy. You'll start here, and just do some deep breathing. In for four beats, out for five. Keep increasing the time spent on each breath. Clear your mind. Any persistent thought comes, grab it and let it repeat until it fades away.”

Keith knew he should speak out loud a bit more, confirm with Shiro verbally that he was okay, that in fact he was loving this, wanting more of that gentle voice's instructions, more of the warm touch, but his voice had faded to make room for his mind's focus on doing a good job. Shiro hadn't corrected him on this, and Keith decided to put trust in that- if there was something wrong, Shiro would say so, immediate and clear.

And anyway, it was kind of nice.

The meditation, too, Shiro allowed him to practice, and Keith went on until his mind had grown numb, a rare sensation of absence where there were typically so many thoughts swirling and threatening to overwhelm him. Shiro brought him out carefully, with a heavy touch to his shoulder, a gentle squeeze.

“That's very good, Keith.” 

His name grounded him, brought him back to the surface, and Keith's mind returned enough to form words.

“Thank you, Shiro.”

“Next is just going to be arching your spine, as far as you can without hurting yourself. Go slowly, and smoothly. Up like a cat, and then down. Exactly right.” Shiro said softly. “Keep your movements smooth. You can speed up if you feel comfortable, but always ensure your movements aren't jerky or painful. This is just to increase your awareness of your spine and its movement.” Shiro kept his touch light, his palm gliding over Keith's back as he continued on. “Your hood is going to restrict your ability to emote using facial expressions. Body language is going to be very important… You're doing so good. Good boy.”

The praise went straight to his head, and Keith glowed bright under the attention, his blood singing under every touch. Shiro kept almost constant contact, guiding him, petting him, helping Keith keep his head, and finally pulled him free by speaking his name again.

“You're ready. You'll definitely do just fine practicing on your own. It was a very good first session, Keith. One of the best I've ever seen.” There was that glow again, and Keith beamed up at Shiro for a few moments before he found his voice.

“That is… Really amazing of you to say, Shiro.”

“C'mere.” Keith was pulled into a hug, his face buried in Shiro's chest, and the warmth of his body caused Keith to melt into it, his eyes closing as Shiro pulled his fingers through Keith's hair. Keith could hardly believe how little had been asked of him. He couldn't stop the hum, or the teasing question, that escaped him then.

“Well? Don't I get a treat?”

There was a pause, and Keith wondered if maybe he shouldn't have said that, when strong hands were suddenly cupping his cheeks, pulling him into a very warm, and- _fuck_ \- very deep kiss, Shiro's skillful tongue working him until Keith felt arousal curling in his gut.

“Yeah,” Shiro was breathless when he pulled away, “Good boys deserve treats.” His hand slipped south then, palming himself through his jeans. Keith got the hint. “And I always strive to be just and fair…” He pulled Keith into another kiss, suckling on his tongue then, and Keith felt desperate enough to moan, a plea for Shiro to just _do something_ already. Just as he did, Shiro pulled back with a smack of lips. “All fours again. Steady.” Keith obeyed, and splayed his limbs when the table lurched alarmingly, but it was only Shiro lowering it a few notches, putting Keith's mouth conveniently level with the bulge in his pants. Keith opened his maw, breath hot over the fabric as he inched forward, mouthing gently at the denim. Shiro growled, gently pushing him back.

“You have no patience whatsoever, pup.”

“Please, Sir-”

“You will use only your mouth. Pups don't have hands.”

“Yes.” Keith breathed. “Yes, please…” Shiro forgave the lack of an honorific, and reached for his belt. Keith watched, resisting temptation as Shiro unzipped his fly, carefully tugged his cock free of his boxers. Keith let loose a low groan. He'd guessed Shiro would be big, and close up, his size was even more impressive, his head flushed pink and shining, a tangle of coarse, dark hair growing just above the base of his cock and trailing upwards. Keith could imagine Shiro stretching him open, his lips, his jaw, making him ache, or pushing inside him and fucking him into oblivion. Then again, maybe Shiro was the type to be gentle…

“Get to it, pup.” Came his cheerful voice, and Keith had to obey. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, nuzzling and kissing at Shiro's skin, suckling and nipping just above his cock, gradually working his way down. Shiro's hair tickled his nose, and Keith breathed through it, carefully keeping his teeth out of the way as his lips suckled along Shiro's shaft, his attention fleeting, a tease more than anything. Shiro didn't comment, only reached to thread his fingers into Keith's hair, keeping his grip there firm. Keith's impatience got the best of him, and he closed his lips over Shiro's head, giving it a suck and letting loose a quiet noise at the taste. He was out of practice, but Keith could hardly care with Shiro's hand in his hair, the man's cock in his mouth, and quiet grunts and groans being drawn from his chest each time Keith suckled or swallowed around his shaft. He was sloppy, saliva soon coating his lips and chin, and Keith only surged forward, gradually bobbing his head forward and back along Shiro's shaft. 

He couldn't take it all, and didn't plan on trying, only wishing he could use his hands- he could make it so good for Shiro if he could just wrap his hands around the base of that gorgeous cock, twist and pump him in time with his mouth, but Keith had his orders. He expressed his displeasure with a small whine, indifferent as to whether Shiro understood or not, and swallowed deeper, drawing his head back and groaning raggedly.

It was only a slight distraction when Shiro half-leaned over him, a calloused palm slipping into Keith's sweats and gripping him tightly, drawing him out. The slightly awkward position was forgotten when Shiro began to pump him mercilessly fast, his fist tight around Keith's cock. He choked, tears springing to his eyes, and Keith's hips canted forward erratically as he struggled to continue pleasing Shiro, his abdomen curling tight and tense as Shiro seemed intent on ruining his hard work.

The pleasure caught up to Keith, who hadn't had a sexual partner in a year and who was hopelessly attracted to his handler, who was already wound tight from tension and needing a release. He pulled himself off of Shiro's cock with a garbled cry, his spine bowing and his forehead pressed to the cool leather beneath him. Keith's hands curled uselessly against the material, scrabbling desperately for purchase and finding nothing. He finally broke, begging in a ruined voice.

“Oh, oh, god, oh _fuck_ \- Shiro, please, _please_ , it's too much, it's too much-” his voice broke when he came, body lurching forward loosely, hips bucking forward as Shiro milked him, and when his body was finally finished falling apart, Keith felt hot and tingly all over, the only thought keeping him on all fours being the fact that he'd just come all over the table, and he was still mostly clothed. Shiro curled his hand beneath Keith's chest then, easing him back up. Keith hadn't noticed him starting to pump himself.

“Close your eyes, pup,” Shiro ordered at a huff, and Keith had just enough time to obey before thick, warm ropes of come decorated his flushed face, feeling heavy and hot on his skin and making him gasp, bowing his head immediately after. He stayed still, overwhelmed, and didn't catch the sound of another body shifting as Shiro quickly collected a rag, soaking it in warm water and returning to Keith. “Easy, boy. You did so good. Such a good boy for me, took your treat so well.” He gently sponged Keith's face clean with his prosthetic as he spoke, free hand moving to stroke in small, delicate circles between Keith's shoulder blades. Once Keith was clean again, Shiro carefully tucked him back into his boxers, and continued petting his hair and back. They were such soothing sensations, that Keith felt as though he was slowly coming back to himself, bit by bit.

Keith opened his eyes. Shiro's smiling, patient face was there, waiting for him.

“Hey, Keith. Back with me?”

“Yeah, Shiro.” Keith answered hoarsely.

“Good. You did so well.” Keith could only hum in thanks. Shiro soon added, “Can I carry you back to the couch?” Keith nodded, and giggled as he was swept up into Shiro's arms, his face covered with kisses as they walked.

Keith came back to himself yet again on the couch, his head in Shiro's lap and hands roaming over his body. He squirmed and gave a content sigh, alerting Shiro.

“Hey. Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” Keith murmured, sitting up and smiling, his eyes locking with Shiro's. How exactly he was supposed to express everything he was feeling in the moment, Keith couldn't decide. “Shiro, I- thank you,” Keith breathed. “This… this was amazing. I don't know what to say.” He earned a quiet chuckle in response.

“Well, there is… one more thing.”

“Oh yeah?” Keith perked up in interest. “What is it?” He watched as Shiro reached around his side of the couch, pulling a small box from the floor and setting in Keith's lap. Eyes wide and searching Shiro's, Keith's gaze darted back and forth as he began to tear at the packaging, sensing Shiro watching on quietly.

What he pulled free had Keith placing a hand over his mouth.

He held a sleek leather collar in his hands, shiny black in color, smooth to the touch, the rich scent drifting up to him. It would appear to anyone else as a simple dog collar, but to Keith, in that moment, it was everything that needed to be said between the two of them. Shiro began to speak softly.

“Your first collar. If you choose to accept it, it'll mark you as my pup. You'll wear it from now on whenever you play, alone or with me. You'll wear this as a symbol of our bond. It's… special.” Shiro quirked a small, self conscious smile. Keith ran his thumbs over the leather, gazing at Shiro in awe. “At least, I believe it is.” The man went on. “When you're ready, you'll give that collar to me, and I'll put it around your neck. It'll seal our bond.”

There was a beat or two, during which Keith simply admired the collar, thought on what it meant, the love and commitment Shiro was showing him by doing this. Shiro remained silent, didn't push, and waited patiently. It only solidified Keith's decision. His eyes narrowed determinedly, and Keith gripped the collar tight, handing it over to Shiro. Neither spoke as Keith lifted his chin and pulled his long hair aside, presenting his neck to Shiro. Two warm, calloused fingers pressed lightly against his throat, and Shiro wound the strip of leather around Keith's neck, pulling it tight and fastening it there. He pulled his fingers free then, and the collar settled into place at the base of Keith's neck. Shiro held up his phone then, the screen reflecting Keith's own image back to him.

“It's a good look on you.” Shiro said, his voice rough. Keith pounced then, and covered Shiro's face and neck with kisses, eventually drawing him into a giddy make out session full of laughter that lasted well past dinnertime. 

When Keith finally packed up to leave, he turned to give Atlas a final scratch under the chin and Shiro a finally hug and a kiss goodbye, still wearing his collar like a reminder around his neck. 

“Thank you. Again.” Keith's voice was full, thick, as he played with the collar around his neck. “I really believe this is going to be… This is gonna be a great arrangement.” Shiro was beaming before Keith had even finished speaking.

“Yeah. I agree. Will you be able to make it back okay?”

Keith smirked, full of confidence as he reached for the doorknob.

“I think I can manage.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith finally meets up with Krolia, Shiro introduces his pup to some gear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun with this one. Expect a small delay in getting to the next chapter, some things popped up ~irl~ that will have to take priority over writing for a few days ^^ hope you all enjoy!

“So, how have you been, Keith?”

He knows it's a dig, knows he should be angry- if it were anyone else, Keith would be angry at the attempt to pry, but even he can't work up the energy to deflect his own mother's questions about his life. Then again, his brain nagged at him, maybe it isn't prying, maybe you're too closed off and see simple questions as threats to your well-being. He tried his best to ignore his thoughts.

“I, uh- I've been fine.” It was no easier to speak to her in person. “I've met someone.” Krolia grinned wide, and it only made what he was about to do harder.

“Oh?” Krolia asked, in that tone of voice that said _ooh, I'm intrigued, tell me more and I totally won't fawn and coo over you_. She peered over the rim of her mug- she'd ordered breakfast at lunch time. “What is she like?”

“...He is wonderful.” Keith said softly, peering down at the table. All his life, Keith had been coming out in different ways- through the assumptions and violence of others, through strangers catching him with cute boys in supply closets, through a look and a soft spoken word and a quiet but joyous reciprocation. But until now, neither of his parents had ever known he was _really_ into boys, and one never would. It hurt, but it was soon proven to Keith that this would be unlike any other experience he'd had with revealing this particular bit of information. Krolia's eyes grew misty, and for a second Keith felt a stab of guilt in his heart at having done this in a restaurant- small, mostly empty, and yet- his thoughts were cut off when Krolia spoke again.

“Tell me about him.”

He'd asked first- of course he'd asked. His relationship with Shiro was strictly professional, and yet the elder man had granted Keith permission to speak about him with his mother- Shiro claimed family was different, that if Keith wanted to spill every detail to his one remaining family member, he was more than welcome to do so. Keith wasn't going to lie of course, but he'd promised Shiro at least some privacy, and he figured coming out to his mother was enough for one day. No need to let it be known just yet that he'd also been playacting as his partner's little pet.

And yet.

Waxing poetic about Shiro was so much easier than the bumbling smalltalk they'd been struggling through before. Krolia's simple request had opened the floodgates. He gave no name and no details of their sex life or arrangements, but everything Keith said was true- that he was the most kind, caring, and warm person Keith had ever met. That every word, every look and every touch put him at ease in a way nothing else ever had. That the man loved animals and was endearingly playful and had a love and passion for the nerdiest things like caramel ice cream and flight museums. That with Shiro, he felt loved. With Shiro, he felt safe. The misty look had returned to Krolia's eyes when Keith finally took a breath, his face flushed in pleasure and eyes alight. He straightened a bit when Krolia suddenly rose to her feet, pulling him straight from his chair and folding him into a close, secure hug. Keith teared up, then, but fought his emotions back down.

“Mom… People are staring…” He complained quietly, and she only held on tighter.

“Let them.”

“You're… you're not mad?” He whispered. “That… that I just met this guy a month or two ago? That he's a… guy?”

“He makes you happy. That is my sole concern.”

They parted soon after, their awkward dynamic making a small comeback, but Keith suffered a little less at their goodbye- Krolia had arrived on a huge, sleek bike, one much bigger, louder, and _cooler_ than his own, and she gave him a nod and a wink before speeding off, leaving the world to eat her dust. Keith was left there, grinning wide and feeling pride burst in his heart. His mother was here now. She loved him, for all that he was.

And she was badass.

Keith made it home, the events of the day weighing on him, but not heavy at all, and when the door shut behind him, closing him safely inside his own little pocket of comfort, Keith let a tear or two slip free, still grinning as he collapsed on the couch, wiping his tears away.

The work week was without incident. Keith, thankfully, was directed back to walking perimeters of site projects and assessing progress and morale more and more frequently, and he slowly, reluctantly relaxed in the setting once more, no longer expecting harassment and ridicule from workers half his age at every turn. His focus, instead, fell on yet another list given to him by Shiro- they were going to start working with gear very soon. It was a short list- a yoga mat and, more temptingly, a tail. His Sir had been very specific- the plug was large and oblong, with a flared base and a description promising to _fill your greedy pup_ and assuring the buyer the sleek appendage was _ultra responsive_. It should have intimidated him- Keith hadn't gone near this territory for a few years now- but looking at the tail, reading about it, only made him horny. Eager. Impatient.

“Have you bought it yet? Have you decided on a size?” 

Keith gave a little huff as Lance's voice greeted him before he'd even shut the door. 

“You have grown very comfortable asking about my sex life. We're coworkers.”

“I can back off if you're uncomfortable.”

“No, I haven't decided on a… size, yet.” Keith said, blushing. “I'm thinking something small-”

“Spring for the medium.”

“What?”

“Trust me. One of the medium sizes, but go for the bigger ones.”

“There is no way.”

“Believe me, I said the same thing.”

 _Of course you did_. Keith didn't grace that with a verbal answer.

“At least see what Shiro thinks.” 

“Fine, fine.” Keith blew out the air in his lungs. “If it'll get you to relax.”

“How was your thing with your mom?”

And just like that, total three-sixty.

“Fine. A little awkward, but… good.”

“Yeah?” Lance glanced over with a smile, and Keith braced himself for a swerve and screeching of tires that never came. “That's good. I'm happy for you, Keith.”

He really hadn't planned on following Lance's advice- it was Lance, after all, but the more Keith thought about it, the more it made sense. Lance had been through this before, and Keith did value Shiro's opinion- damn him. Keith grabbed his phone and fired off a quick message to Shiro asking about the tail, and returned to his evening routine. Kosmo needed a walk, the house definitely needed a bit of straightening up, and dinner was a quick stovetop stew rather than some nuked cardboard and cheese- he told himself it was because he was becoming a functional adult, getting his shit together, and definitely not because it made him a better pup- though the exercises Shiro had given him were admittedly easier on his body when he'd eaten some real food.

Each night, he'd done just what he had with Shiro, lazing around until he was calm, his stomach settled, and then went down on all fours, first breathing deeply, closing his eyes, and waiting for his mind to become numbingly clear. Then, Keith would arch his back, letting it dip further and further, slow and steady, his ass sticking in the air. He'd raise his spine then, bowing his head, gradually bending as far as he could manage, always focusing on the way the muscles of his body all stretched and burned, accommodating the unfamiliar movements, adjusting to them. Sometimes Shiro would call, and he'd watch, often complimenting Keith's form much more than he needed to critique.

That night, Keith practiced until his phone buzzed, and he sat up, stretching out his limbs and letting the joints pop with a satisfied little grunt. Then, he reached for the device, rolling his eyes fondly when he saw what was waiting for him.

_Call me. I like the sound of your voice._

“You're too much, you know that?” Keith asked once Shiro's face had appeared on the screen.

“It's the truth.”

“How sweet.”

“As for your tail, I think a medium size would suit you well.” Keith furrowed his brow.

“Are you sure?”

“If you're not, then go for something smaller. But I've found a lot of pups have grown bored or dissatisfied with a smaller plug.”

“I want to, I just... haven't had anything in me for about a year and a half.”

“But you have had toys inside you before?”

“Frequently.” Keith answered, prompt. He'd stopped turning bright red whenever he discussed his past sexual life with Shiro.

“And you enjoyed it?”

“Yeah.” Keith sighed, leaning back against the couch. “A lot.”

“You can always go up or down a size if you find the tail doesn't work for you. There's no shame in it.” Keith nodded. He'd been convinced.

“Okay.” He breathed, navigating to the link Shiro had sent him earlier in the week. “Medium it is.” He clicked.

“Ordering it now?”

“Yeah.”

“Exciting.” The tone of Shiro's voice had Keith clicking back over to his window, and he swallowed.

“Are you excited, Sir?” He asked innocently.

“To see you with your tail wagging away in your ass? Incredibly so.” Keith let loose a whine, and Shiro went on with a hum. “Just like that… How you'll sound, when we get it inside you for the first time.” Keith bit down harshly on his lip. “I'll be right there, yeah?” Shiro's voice was light and warm now, gentle, and Keith didn't know whether he wanted to kiss him or kill him. Shiro had him teetering right on the edge of begging for permission to touch himself, and apparently that was where he'd stay. Shiro bid him a very sweet goodnight, complete with soft looks and kisses blown his way, and Keith wouldn't sacrifice his pride for a quick release- not yet.

The yoga mat was an easier, cheaper endeavor, and Keith bravely ventured from his home in order to experience it in person- Shiro had pointed out he'd be spending a lot of time on it, and had made Keith promise to pick something he'd enjoy, something comfortable, a rewarding tactile experience. He'd settled on a thick foam mat, gray in color, that sank under his touch in much the same way as the material in Shiro's playroom. It was a comforting reminder of their sessions, and what had previously seemed boring now captured Keith's attention almost as much as his tail, which arrived a day before his next session with Shiro, a Friday afternoon. Lance had given him a knowing look when he'd dropped Keith off, a battered cardboard box lying near his door, and Keith had ignored him and quickly rushed the package inside. Opening it up really shouldn't have been as excitingly satisfying as it was.

The box itself was discreet enough, but the moment Keith had slipped a blade beneath the tape and pulled the box open, he was greeted with the traditional red and black, devilish design he'd come to associate with all things kinky. His tail sat cushioned in its own plastic casing, made of smooth silicone in a glossy black, curved slightly. The flared base seemed larger in person, and Keith's gut coiled in excitement as he carefully picked the box open and pulled the plastic casing free, before delicately lifting the tail out and tracing his fingers over the material. With the slightest movement, the tail wagged enthusiastically, the very image of a pup eager to see his master. Keith chewed his lip as he continued inspecting his new toy, finding it flawless, his expression turning a bit amused as he shook it, carefully at first, and then quicker, to watch the tail wag. Ultra responsive, the description had said. Keith had to agree. He read over the label for the lube next, water based, and delicately placed everything back in its packaging for presentation, before snapping a picture and sending it off to Shiro.

_It's here._

_Very sexy. Are you going to try it out?_

_Still thinking on that one._

_If nothing else, you can always just tease yourself with it. No need to get it inside you yet, that comfort will come with time and practice._

Keith was touched again by how incredibly caring and patient Shiro was, how accommodating, and he found himself smiling when he fired off his final message.

_You're incredible. I'll do that._

Keith eyed both the tail and his mat for a moment, before pushing up off his couch. Kosmo had gotten a new chew around the same time Keith had bought the mat, and was currently lying on his bed in the next room, happily gnawing away. Keith grabbed his things and moved to his bedroom, where he rolled the mat out on the floor and stripped, his hands slow and only a little shaky. He wasn't sure if it was more nerves or excitement. He stretched and shook out his arms and legs, before dropping on to all fours. It'd become a familiar, comfortable position, and Keith bowed his head, closed his eyes, and started breathing deeply. The clarity came easier now, and Keith let out the rest of his tension in a pleased groan as he began flexing his spine, cutting the exercise short to grab his tail. Keith debated for a moment, studying the plug, before shifting positions, rolling over onto his back, his legs spread. He paused, more deep breathing, and then lowered the tail down to his hole.

He was cautious, more so than the situation probably called for, but Keith still took things at his own pace, gliding the end of the plug over his rim feather-light at first, gradually grinding it against himself with more and more pressure. Keith was soon whimpering softly, his hips bucking in small circles, his free hand reaching to claw at the mat. The material soon warmed, and Keith slowed before the friction could start hurting, his face flushed and his chest heaving as he panted. The realization was dawning on him that he could make himself come from this, with just a little extra push. Keith scrambled back to his hands and knees and lubed the plug, just a drop smoothed over the end, before he flopped back down, thinking of Shiro as he began to grind his hips down onto the plug again. With his free hand, Keith gripped and tugged at his balls, massaged and toyed with himself as he pushed the plug teasingly against his rim, feeling himself start to give and chickening out each time. It wasn't unpleasant.

It was even less so when he closed his eyes, began to fantasize. Shiro would have his hands on him by now. His chest, his shoulders, stroking and petting him, telling him how well he was doing, calling him good boy. Scratch behind his ears, miraculously work the tail into him, ease him onto all fours and ask Keith to give his tail a wag. Keith whined, his hips writhing as his mind ran with that. He'd be so full, he'd be doomed no matter how he chose to follow orders- clenching his ass, wriggling his hips, that plug would shift right up against him, and he'd probably come just from that-

“Fuck,” Keith whimpered to the empty room, tears stinging his eyes as pressure built in his abdomen. He wanted more. Wanted to strip down his cock, wanted to howl his pleasure to the empty room- he was alone. He didn't want to do this alone, he wanted Shiro. But there was no one there to judge him- he was quiet at first. The whimpering grew higher in pitch, more drawn out, before Keith closed his eyes and let out a quiet, shaky yelp, and another, and another. They grew more genuine, louder, and Keith wrapped a hand around his cock to pump, fast and tight, around the shaft as the plug continued to tease at his ass. He was close. His wrist ached, and a mild cramp was starting to burn in his thigh, but Keith kept going, a savage growl reverberating deep in his chest. It grew, in volume and pitch, until a sound not entirely human slipped free. Keith's toes curled, his back arched, and his jaw went slack as he spurted over his hand and stomach, whining desperately as he turned over, fucking down into his fist to milk himself through his orgasm, raw cries leaving him as he shuddered, finally letting go and dropping the plug, entirely spent. 

It was all he could do to drag himself from the mat to his bed, and Keith collapsed onto his side once there, burning with heat and waiting for his breathing to slow. The bedding was soft, every shift brought it grazing deliciously over his skin, and Keith, dizzy and warm with pleasure, ground his face down into his pillow, his back arched and ass in the air as he rocked back and forth against the sheets, growling softly and nuzzling to his heart's content. Keith finally rolled onto his side again, shivery with the sensations, and feeling sleep rolling over him like a thick fog. Keith had the presence of mind to text a very hazy _loving the new tail_ to Shiro before he drifted off, his sleep heavy and dreamless.

He paid for his indulgence the next day.

Keith had slept in, and had only an hour for a shower, breakfast, and taking care of Kosmo, in addition to cleaning off his mat and tail from the previous day's activities, which he'd left coated in come and lube and which were not merciful or forgiving of his mistakes. Somehow, Keith managed a shower, a walk with Kosmo, and a miraculous cleansing of his gear all in about a half an hour, and he dashed outside, his bag slung over his shoulder. Here, he froze. Did he take the bike? It was too late to ask for a ride, and Keith wasn't about to trouble Shiro for it. He wasn't going to call Lance, either. He should take the bike, but his limbs seized up at the thought, and with a quiet, frustrated curse, Keith jogged off, headed to the bus stop nearby and texting a profuse apology to Shiro, admitting he was going to be late.

Of course he didn't mind, but Keith selfishly clung to hating his own mistakes and showed up at Shiro's place still feeling down, stiff and disappointed with himself. Shiro's time was valuable, and Keith wanted every second of it he could get but he wanted to deserve it, too. Wanted Shiro to know he treasured it. He was greeted with the usual sweeping hug and murmur of his name, and the squeeze of Shiro's arms around him almost relieved the bad feelings. Almost.

“Hey, what's with that face?” Shiro asked gently, his thumbs grazing over Keith's cheeks. His stomach chose that moment to grumble, loudly, and Keith wished desperately he could sink into the Earth. The look in Shiro's eyes told him he saw right through Keith, and a strong arm looped around his waist, guiding him through the halls. It only took a few more minutes of mild prompting on Shiro's part to get Keith to spill it all- that he'd fucked himself senseless and fallen asleep immediately afterwards, neglecting to care for his gear and ruining his chances to show up on time. And on top of it all, he was starving. They'd ended up in the living room again, Shiro on the couch, Keith slumped on the floor in front of him while those large hands scratched expertly over his scalp, cheering him up further. 

“I don't think you need me to tell you this is no way to practice pet play.” Shiro murmured at the end of it, but his voice was warm and friendly rather than scolding, and Keith quietly agreed. “You shouldn't feel guilty about feeling pleasure, or taking care of yourself in any way- ever. Your body needed sleep after exerting itself so thoroughly, and you should always prioritize what your body is telling you over your gear- that can be replaced, easily. You can't.”

“You… you're right.” Keith conceded, with a heavy sigh. 

“Glad to hear you say so.” Shiro answered, smug now. “Let me make you some food. You can play with Atlas while you wait. Relax, level out again. Then we'll start.”

“Wait, we're still going to play today?” Keith asked, brightening up a little. Shiro tilted his head. The gesture made Keith melt.

“If you're comfortable.”

“Yes. I was afraid I'd… ruined our session. Isn't it too late?”

“I've got all day,” Shiro reassured, reaching out to brush his knuckles over Keith's cheekbone. He hummed, leaned into the touch, and Shiro dug and crooked his fingers into the space just behind Keith's ear, making him groan, before standing. “Won't be long. Promise.”

Keith took Shiro's advice, coaxing Atlas over and starting to coo and talk to her, scribbling his fingers against the furniture and watching intently as she hunted him, snatching his hand away before her claws could get him each time with a quiet laugh. Her eyes were saucers, wide and black, her beautiful snowy fur standing on end and her tail whipping wildly back and forth as she dashed in and out, chirping and pouncing. He eventually found where her toys were stashed under the couch, and pulled free a fuzzy little lure, dragging it around until she eventually snatched it from him, batting it around the room. Better the lure than his hand, Keith thought. Shiro soon returned with omelettes, a bit flat and stuffed with something that could have been cheese and veggies, but Keith scarfed them down regardless. It was a hot meal, and flavorful, and ended the gnawing pain in his stomach, woke him up, put some life into his dead and tired limbs. Once they'd finished, cleaned up, and Keith had gulped down several glasses of cold water, he pulled himself onto Shiro's lap, cradling his face between his hands and resting his forehead against Shiro's.

“You are so amazing. Thank you.”

“Of course, Keith.” Shiro reached up, dug his fingers into Keith's hair again. “You deserve it. You deserve every bit of effort on my part. And I enjoy giving it. More than you know.” Keith shivered, let loose a quiet noise, and Shiro slipped his hands to Keith's hairline, scratching lightly along.

“Gonna put me right to sleep like this…”

“Oh, yeah. That'd just be so terrible.”

“I want to play with you,” Keith pointed out, making the effort to peel one eye open. They regarded each other, master and pet, and Shiro nodded.

“Get your things. Meet me in the playroom.”

Keith wriggled in excitement, ducking forward to press an eager kiss to Shiro's lips.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Down on your mat. Let's see your breathing exercises.” Keith obeyed. It put him far below Shiro, and on all fours like he was, he couldn't look up to see that face, to see those warm, friendly eyes on him, but he could feel them, could hear the fondness in the way Shiro spoke as he paced around, watching Keith and taking in his form as he closed his eyes, bowed his head, and breathed deeply, letting his lungs and stomach both expand with air, before letting it out slowly. Shiro gave him plenty of time to reach the pleasantly numb place in his mind before he spoke again, a hand trailing down Keith's spine. 

“Very good, pup. Absolutely perfect. Let's see you arch your back now- slowly, that's it. Just like that.” Shiro crouched down as Keith bent followed instructions, and began to rub his chest again, large circles that pushed Keith into a slight swaying motion and coaxed his mind deeper into that calm, relaxed state, made his chest burst with happiness and affection towards Shiro. He could feel the cool material of the prosthetic tracing patterns over his shoulder at the same time, and Keith braced his forearms out before himself to keep from simply collapsing.

“Now, I'm going to explain your mat to you, pup, so listen closely.” Keith tilted his head slightly, not bothering with opening his eyes, and Shiro continued on, “You may already have an idea formed of what exactly your mat is to you, and what it should be used for. As a pup, this is your territory. This is your spot. You'll practice all your play on this mat from now on, you'll exercise, you'll sweat, you'll come on it. Maybe even sleep here, from time to time.You'll make it yours. Wipe it down from time to time, and give it a good cleaning each time after coming on it.” His hands stopped their actions then, and Keith peeled his eyes open. “Understand, pup?”

“Yes, Sir. Completely.” He replied clearly.

“Good boy. Now, as for your tail…” Keith sensed Shiro moving to grab it, and shivered in anticipation. “With time and practice, you will get used to the feeling. You'll become comfortable with your tail, and you'll be able to put it in and take it out on your own. But your first few times are going to be with me, yeah? I'll be the one stretching you, getting your tail inside you, taking it out again, and cleaning it. Speaking of- I know you already have experience in caring for toys, so I'll only go over the basics- water based lube only, wash with soap and warm water, rinse with cold.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You’ll train yourself to accept your tail by associating it with pleasure- admire it, tease yourself, use it to make yourself come. Do this at least once a week. Got that?”

“Yes,” Keith breathed out as Shiro's hands resumed their petting, slipping under his clothes now, rucking them up and mussing them out of place. 

“Good. If you're comfortable, relaxed, I want to try fingering you today. Only one or two, and a bit of teasing with the tail. I won't force it in, and I'll use plenty of lube.”

Keith groaned, bowed until he could press his head to the mat.

“Fuck yes. Please, Sir.”

“Good boy,” Shiro's voice oozed pride, and Keith leaned into his touch as Shiro began to fiddle with his belt. “You just let me know if you need me to stop. We'll just go with getting your jeans off today. Good?”

“Yeah,” Keith murmured, his voice dreamy, and he did his best to help, lifting his hips for Shiro and each leg, fighting against the shift in balance as he was still on all fours. Shiro somehow made it work in record time, and Keith was left in only his shirt, bare on his hands and knees at Shiro's feet. He felt a hand on his neck then, and hummed in approval as it began to travel down his spine, kneading and prodding at his muscles to encourage him to relax. Shiro massaged down to the base of his spine, before withdrawing. The snap of the lube being opened and closed again sent a shiver through him, but Keith forced himself to keep his neck relaxed and his head bowed. 

“Remember to relax.” Shiro's voice was back, lulling him further, and Keith nodded lazily before he recalled he should answer verbally, as much as possible.

“Yeah… yes, Sir.” He flushed at the sound of Shiro's warm chuckle.

“Good boy. Deep breaths for me.” There was a collection of slick sounds as Shiro warmed the lube between his fingers. His prosthetic settled on the base of Keith's spine, still and steadying him. “Going to touch you now, pup. Easy…” A low whine was still pushed from his chest as a pressure appeared against his rim, strong and firm. Being touched by Shiro was nothing like teasing himself. Shiro had a purpose, and it showed with the way he stroked the pads of his fingers over Keith's rim, coaxing the ring of muscle into puckering, and Keith shifted his hips back as arousal started to curl in his gut. “Relax.” Shiro reminded softly, and Keith let go of the tension momentarily. It was then Shiro prodded at his entrance, and Keith's head whipped up, his eyes wide and his entire body flooding with heat at the feeling. The tip of Shiro's finger had breached him, and Keith was clenching, preventing him from going any further. Shiro's prosthetic smoothed back up his spine, weighing gently on his neck. “Head back down, pup. Relax for me.” Keith took another deep breath, and with some effort, resisted his body telling him to expel the intrusion.

“Good boy. Very good,” Shiro went slower now, twisting and thrusting shallowly, gradually working his finger in and coating Keith with lube as he went. Keith's mind, meanwhile, was fixed entirely on relaxing his body, letting Shiro in, and very little on the sensation itself, largely trying to ignore it. There was no need, he told himself, to focus on the feeling. Not yet, not until it'd be bearable, pleasurable. There was hardly any pain, but plenty of heat prickling uncomfortably up his spine, and a fullness that crept up into his stomach, and then to his throat as Shiro pushed in deeper. “That's it, pup. You're doing so well for me. Only gonna go with one finger today, yeah? We're almost where we need to be. Just relax a little further…” Keith dropped his forehead to the mat again, gulping in air, and nuzzling down into the cool material. A growl was pushed out of him again.

“Are you able to touch your cock, pup?” He had to pull himself together in order to speak.

“Yessir…” Keith croaked. Good enough.

“Good. Do so for me.”

He did. Somehow, he managed, because it was Shiro asking, and Keith was here to please Shiro, to work with him. He braced himself on one forearm, his hand snaking down between his legs and slipping around the base of his cock, only half hard from the stimulation. Shiro's voice came again.

“Give yourself some pleasure. I'm going deeper once you've relaxed again.”

Keith could only nod this time, and began to lazily pump himself with a deep moan. Now the fullness and the heat were becoming that familiar tightness deep in his stomach, and now that Keith was starting to enjoy himself, he realized just how close he really was.

“Sir…” He groaned, shuddering once.

“Close, baby?”

“Yes… please, oh please, give me more, Sir, more…”

“My pleasure.” Shiro growled, an animalistic sound that went straight to Keith's cock and had him sniveling, pathetic. Shiro curled and crooked his finger, stroking Keith's walls in slow, tight circles, teasing him closer to his release, and Keith quickly shook his head.

“Please,” he sobbed, “My- deeper. My prostate, Sir, touch me there…” Shiro gave a wordless groan, but he complied, slipping deeper, and Keith did howl now, his teeth grit tightly as he pushed his face into the mat, ignoring the taste of sweat and tears. Shiro was stroking over that spot deep inside him with such care and softness, just enough to bring little sparks of pleasure racing down Keith's spine as he tugged his cock, the muscles all along his thighs and legs twitching as he neared his release. Keith's hips rocked, his toes dug into the mat, and with a final push from Shiro, he was coming, a blinding white flashing behind his eyes as he cried out, sobbing quietly as he shook through the ordeal. He didn't stop shaking even as Shiro carefully withdrew his finger, cleaning his hand quickly and soon initiating contact with Keith again, his hands radiating heat, grounding him as they smoothed over every inch of his skin. 

“Oh, Keith,” Shiro was whispering, he was right in Keith's ear, his lips on his burning skin, “You're so beautiful, you did so well. You always do amazingly, Keith, but today…” Keith fell into him, his eyes closing, and Shiro happily steadied him with arms around him, sitting back on the floor and pulling Keith clear of the soiled mat and into his lap. “Just breathe. I'm right here. Take your time, come back to yourself.” The shivering died down as Keith warmed under the contact, the words, and though it was a long while before he trusted himself to speak again, Shiro held him through it all. Keith finally gave a worn-out groan and dragged himself upright again.

“Shit,” he huffed, and flushed when his voice still sounded gravelly. Shiro only made an amused little noise, and cradled Keith's face in his hands.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” Keith murmured, his eyes slipping shut for a moment, before he forced them open again, still lazy and hooded. “Don’t know why it's so intense…”

“Do you dislike it?”

“...No.” Keith decided.

“Then don't worry about it. It's only you and I here. And I for one love your sensitivity.” Keith could hear the grin in Shiro's voice even before he shifted his head up to look. “You'll calm down after a little while. Everyone's body reacts in different ways, you'll grow used to it again.”

Keith hummed in agreement, sinking fully against Shiro again. They stayed there for a while longer, cuddling on the floor of the playroom, until Keith had the energy to stand again, his legs only a bit sore as he dressed once more and moved to the wall to stretch, while Shiro handled cleaning up. Keith eyed him. He'd sure sounded aroused back there…

“I, uh… Do you want me to blow you?” He asked, leading to a bright bout of laughter from Shiro.

“Blunt as ever, mm? You're too adorable.” He shook his head. “No, I think we'll skip that today. I can handle myself from time to time.” Keith swallowed.

“Let me watch.”

“Won't be much of a show. I want to do it quick.”

“Fine by me.” Keith replied, stubborn. He watched as Shiro considered it, stepping back from where he'd been wiping down the mat, his eyes on the ground. He bit his lip, his eyes dark when they sought out Keith's.

“Alright.” Shiro murmured, and approached at what Keith could only describe as a stalk. A predator, coming close. If that made him the prey, well, so be it.

Shiro caged him in against the wall, his face inches from Keith's own and his gaze boring into him as he undid his own belt, fingers working deftly, and Keith chewed his lip, letting his eyes travel down as his eyebrows arched, pleased with what he saw. Shiro's shirt was thin material that clung to the planes of his body, and Keith traveled over the hills and valleys of his muscled torso, taking his time as Shiro began to pump his cock, shifting slightly and starting to groan. Finally, Keith allowed himself a glance. Shiro was flushed, fully erect, his head slick as he worked himself, hovering over Keith, whose gaze traveled back up to Shiro's face. The expression there was heaven, pure bliss. Shiro's eyes were shut tight, his jaw slack and brows pulled down as he huffed and hummed. Keith reached out, resting his palms on either side of Shiro's jaw and pulling him into a bold kiss, all tongue, sloppy and wet and probably disgusting under any other circumstances.

Shiro seemed to enjoy it, and Keith tilted his head and pushed his chin forward, lapping into Shiro's mouth and curling his tongue playfully, twining it with Shiro's and suckling. There was a slick sound as Shiro twisted his wrist, a thump as he stomped his foot, growling and kissing back just as sloppy, just as desperate. _He wants me_. The thought made Keith giddy, and he knew he'd be hard again if he wasn't so exhausted. He focused on Shiro's pleasure now, his hands passing lower as he shamefully felt up his partner, earning another low groan from him. Keith groped tightly at Shiro's chest, slipped around to squeeze his ass with a giggle that forced him to break their kiss. Shiro gasped wetly, resting his head just beside Keith's against the wall and heaving for air, pumping faster. 

“Fuck,” Keith whispered, and toyed thoughtfully with the hem of Shiro's shirt for a moment, before slipping his hands up under the fabric. “Has anyone ever told you how incredibly sexy you are?” Shiro gave a shaky laugh.

“'S been mentioned… Once or twice…” Keith raised one eyebrow.

“You believe it?” He earned a grunt in return.

“Sometimes…”

Without further hesitation, Keith dug his nails into Shiro's pecs and raked down, over the swell of his chest and firmness of his abs, watching the angry red lines disappear beneath Shiro's shirt as he spasmed, his eyes flying wide open as he came, keening and writhing in his own hand. Keith smoothed over the marks he'd made, and when Shiro slumped forward and buried his face in Keith's neck, Keith obliged him, his hand curling at the back of Shiro's neck and petting lightly.

“Feeling good, huh?” Keith asked quietly, maybe a bit proud of himself for wrecking Shiro while completely spent himself. He turned his head, lips ghosting over Shiro's jaw. “You're fucking beautiful, Shiro, inside and out. Always remember that.”

Shiro looked at him then like Keith had hung the stars in the sky, and it was so tempting to look away, to hide from what he knew logically was only the afterglow making Shiro look that way. He didn't hide, and instead helped Shiro clean himself up, sticking close to support his weight and share his body weight. They were both silent until Keith had packed, and paused in front of the door.

“It's later than you expected, right?” Shiro asked. “Let me drive you home.” Keith didn't have it in him to argue, and anyway, he didn't want to. 

“Keep playing with your mat and tail.” Shiro murmured as he drove. “Don't force anything- you just want to get used to the feeling. If you feel up to it, finger yourself, but I want to be there when you put your tail in for the first time.”

“Yes, Sir,” Keith sighed happily, lounging back in his seat until he was home.

“You'll be okay?” Shiro asked.

“Yeah.” Keith's smile tugged at his lips. “Thank you again, Shiro. For everything.” His answer was a kiss, sweet and lingering, and Keith's head was still spinning when he reached the front door. He turned then, and gave a shy little wave as Shiro drove off again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith strives to get used to his new gear, Lance tries to convince him he's in love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a doozy to get through. Hope you all enjoy!

“Fuck!”

The moment the word slipped out, Keith clamped his mouth shut, but it was a little too late, considering he'd already cursed at every turn, swerve, and bump that came with Lance's driving. And of course the asshole found it all hilarious.

“You shouldn't have gone so hard last night.”

“We didn't,” Keith growled. _He only used two fingers_ \- another yelp slipped from his throat when Lance drove over a particularly harsh pothole, sending a jarring sensation up his spine. “You did that on purpose,” Keith wheezed, his usual venom nowhere to be found.

“I didn't! You always get on my case about staying in my lane, I could have swerved to avoid that pothole, but noooooo- It was pretty funny.”

“Lance, shut up.”

“You got it.”

Keith sucked in a breath, and dared to speak again. 

“So. How's Allura?” He regretted it immediately as Lance turned a deep red and grinned dreamily.

“Mm. She's good. Really good. Like, Keith, she is absolutely _divine,_ in every aspect of life…. And I mean _every-_ ”

“Okay. Got it.” Keith said firmly. Lance only laughed softly.

“You'll see one day, man. You will. If you haven't already, that is.”

“Don't know what you're talking about.”

Keith managed to keep most of his pained noises and grimaces to himself after this blatant lie, gritting his teeth over the more painful bumps, if only to keep from snapping at Lance.

Once home, his routine had changed yet again- a long walk through the rocky desert with Kosmo, dinner, work, and then- his training routine. Keith still dutifully did his meditation and exercises first, and while it had been tempting to neglect them at first and get to the more exciting aspect of playing with his tail- he could see the difference. Already his body had adjusted itself to finding the positions, his mind sank easily, and his muscles responded with strength and relaxation that allowed him the longer amount of time spent on all fours. Shiro still called often, still asked to watch, but he had stopped studying Keith so closely, had given up his critiquing, and a few times Keith had glanced to the side to see Shiro admiring him- simply looking for the sake of it. The feeling was a nice one. More than nice. It had led to Keith blurting an invitation to come watch in person- one Shiro had been eager to accept. He'd arrived the night before with his arms full of blankets and treats for Kosmo, who he'd greeted enthusiastically. Something about Shiro roughhousing on the floor with his dog had made Keith a little more than intrigued, and once they'd calmed down and Keith had offered edible food, much to Shiro's delight, Keith had ordered Kosmo to his bed. 

Coming free from his memories stripped bare and on his hands and knees, Keith finished his exercises, and reached for his tail lying nearby. He cleared his throat, anticipation making him tight, and thought of his date with Shiro to ease the tension. The same feeling had coiled in his gut as soon as they were left alone in the living room- Keith had completed his version of cleaning, which meant he had grabbed every bit of junk in sight and had stuffed it in the cellar, left it to be dealt with another day. Dusting the wood interior until it looked newly polished had been a nightmare, and there was little he could do about the low light, except open up the windows. It'd made him ridiculously giddy when Shiro had admired his home, complimented him on it, and Keith was soon gushing about how his great-grandfather had supposedly been the one to build it, and that the little cabin had been with his father's side of the family ever since. He'd stuttered to an abrupt stop when he noticed Shiro looking at him, not with confusion or boredom but with a genuine smile on his face, dark eyes burning bright and drawing him in. 

Keith had grown bold, kissed the man then, and it had led to them both bare as he was now, a heavy hand on his back, pushing him down into the mat, followed by Shiro's slick fingers prodding at his rim, massaging until Keith gave to him with a groan, burying his face in his arms and doing his best to remain still for Shiro, to stay relaxed. It hadn't lasted long- they were both excited, and there was more pleasure than pain this time. Keith had bucked helplessly back into Shiro's hand, and his Sir had responded by burying his fingers to the knuckle, twisting and thrusting them mercilessly until Keith had come.

“So much for stretching you,” Shiro had said, pretty breathless himself, while Keith buried his face in his mat and groaned. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't,” his brain was taking its sweet time finding words, “Don't apologize for making me come, Shiro, god-”

The situation seemed to hit him then, and Shiro bit back a laugh, which had made Keith snort, and their mirth had snowballed from there, fits of quiet giggling still cropping up as Shiro began helping him clean up, refusing Keith's blunt offer of a blowjob for a second time and taking his tail into the bathroom.

“I can handle that part,” Keith pointed out quickly in embarrassment, scrambling stiffly up onto his knees, but he stopped again when Shiro poked his head back around the corner with a smile.

“I just had my fingers up your ass, pup. I think I can manage.” 

“Right,” he'd settled down, flushed, regretting it and hissing when his weight settled heavily on the base of his spine. Keith had opted to lay on his side for the rest of the night, cuddled up close to Shiro and buried in piles of blankets as they watched a movie, Keith drifting off soon after Shiro started rubbing his back to ease the aching. The slight pain had been a satisfying reminder that quickly morphed into an inconvenience with Lance around. But it'd been more than worth it, and Keith bit back the pain as he eased the lubed up plug over his rim, going slowly. He could almost hear Shiro's voice telling him to wait a few more days, to give himself his release some other way, but Keith wanted this- and each push put him closer to succeeding, to seeing that look of surprise and excitement in Shiro's eyes he'd grown so fond of.

But even Keith knew better than to go past his limits.

It was clear his success wouldn't come today, but it was hard to feel bad about it, fantasizing about Shiro and teasing his ass with a plug. Keith gave a breathy little noise, waiting until he felt tortuously close before abandoning his tail and instead pumping his cock- Keith arched his back and whined Shiro's name, over and over, thinking of the way he could rile the man up, letting himself believe for a moment that he was the only one who could- a minute longer and he was bucking his hips forward, fucking his fist and whimpering until he spilled over his hand, letting loose a relieved sigh as he came down, let go of himself and toppled onto his side. The bliss that came after always made it hard to get back up, do the responsible thing and clean, but this time in particular, Keith was tempted to remain where he was, curled slightly so he could remain on the mat without lying in his own mess, a hand coming to toy with the collar around his neck. After a moment of debate, Keith smirked, reaching for his phone. As expected, there was a goodnight text from Shiro already there and waiting for him. Keith snapped a blurry picture of his mat, and sent it back.

_It has been a good night._

_Messy pup._

_And a sleepy pup. Your fault._

_Dream of me. <3_

Keith stared down at the heart, feeling his own fluttering ridiculously fast. Then, he closed his eyes, sighing happily.

The week became a bit more trying when Lance seemed intent on continuing his crusade of convincing Keith he was in love. Failing that, of course, it seemed his coworker could talk about Allura for hours on end. Keith’s only options while trapped in a car with the guy were to ignore him completely- an impossible task Keith realized he no longer had the heart for- or listen and humor him, which Keith had ended up doing that very week. At least, he told himself he was only humoring Lance.

“Okay, fine. How did you realize you were in love with Allura?”

Lance seemed over the moon to be asked this question.

“Well, I… I guess it was when I started wanting to put her first,” Lance’s voice was soft, his blue eyes downturned, and Keith felt a rush of affection for the guy. He was a little over the top at times, but Lance was still a good guy. He clearly cared. “It was slow, but it happened. My thoughts became less about how to please myself when we were around each other, and more, ‘how do I please her? How do I make her happy?’ I’d strive for it, and when I succeeded… It was better than anything I’d felt before. I never knew pleasing someone else could be so deeply satisfying.” Keith stubbornly blocked the direction his thoughts were headed, the images of striving so hard to please Shiro, of always focusing on Shiro, whether it was a simple movie date or an intense scene with hands all over him-

“How did you know she loved you?” He asked, just to get his mind off things, and mentally kicked himself. Lance laughed.

“Well, she told me. And I believed her, I did, but… I was sick one day. Really sick. Unable to move, losing everything I tried to eat within an hour-”

“Get to the point,” Keith ordered, his nose wrinkling.

“Right. Well, really sick. Incapacitated. Totally gross. Even Roni couldn’t come to me that day, but Allura left work to come take care of me, and in the face of all that, she was nothing but kind and warm and caring. During one of my more lucid moments, I looked up at her and she was just… petting my hair back from my face, noticed me looking and smiled. Reassured me everything was going to be okay. And I had this thought, like, ‘Wow. She really would do anything for me.’” Lance bit his lip, his smile gone. “That’s when I knew for sure, that she loved me as much as I loved her.”

Keith swallowed hard. He’d never considered himself a romantic, but he had to admit it sounded wonderful. It also sounded a bit like Shiro caring for him, and that thought was a little less welcome in his mind. Shiro cared for him because that was what they’d arranged for. It was his job. Surely the genuine feeling to Shiro’s behavior had come only after years of practice, of crafting what he put out, down to his tone of voice and the way he moved. It made more sense than someone like Shiro ever truly loving someone like himself.

They mercifully arrived at Keith’s home then, and he quickly grabbed his things, as if being alone would make it easier to outrun his thoughts.

“Well, thank you, Lance, this has been very enlightening.”

“Hey anytime, buddy. You’ll come around.”

He didn’t bother pointing out that had been sarcasm, and hurried in, greeting Kosmo when he jumped up, placing his massive paws squarely on Keith’s chest and barking loudly in his face. Drool flew, and a few specks landed on Keith’s cheek.

“Gaaaah-ross,” he muttered playfully, dashing his hand across his face and wiping it back on Kosmo, who danced away again, his tail waving as he snatched up his toy, a small stuffed lion with a tear in its leg. He brought the lion to Keith, wriggling all the way, his breath snorting messily through his nose. “What’s with you today?” Keith laughed, burying his hands in the thick fur on Kosmo’s neck and growling playfully at him. “Who’s excited, huh? Are you excited? Kosmo’s excited! Excited to go outside!” That word had been a big mistake. Kosmo was still seemingly twice his size in weight, and Keith was nearly bowled over when his mutt made a beeline for the door- with Keith still in front of it. He wrestled with Kosmo to get the lead clipped onto his collar, and they went for their walk. 

These scenes repeated themselves throughout the week, with one exception- on one such trek with Kosmo, Keith’s phone had buzzed loudly. Krolia. He’d fumbled with the phone, before quickly answering. Her voice had come through broken up and crackling, and Keith had to insist over and over to call him back, laughing when Kosmo yanked on the leash, whining after a squirrel, while his mother still attempted to talk away.

“Mom!” Keith practically shouted into the receiver, putting her on speaker and winding Kosmo’s leash around his wrist, giving it a firm tug. “I’m out in the desert, I cannot understand you, I am going to call you back. Okay?”

More crackling, and he’d finally given up, hanging up and calling her the moment he’d arrived back home.

“Keith Kogane, did you just hang up on your mother?”

“I don’t have any reception out in the middle of _nowhere!_ ” He’d reminded her, his grin wide as he mixed Kosmo’s food, and then his own, Krolia’s voice playfully chewing him out in his ear. Each night had ended with he and Kosmo settling down to eat, Kosmo pressed to Keith’s thigh or draped across his lap. Then he’d work, or call Shiro, or both until it was bedtime, wind down with his training, and fall asleep dreaming of the man who had definitely not stolen his heart.

His next arrival at Shiro’s place granted him a surprise, and Keith found himself glad he’d only teased himself with his tail the first day of the week, leaving it alone and letting his sore muscles recover for the rest. He still got his usual greeting- Shiro happily announcing his name and sweeping him up in a hug, but then came the change- the hug didn’t end, and instead morphed into Shiro backing him against the door, his lips finding Keith’s throat and making him groan softly.

“Oh, wow,” Keith breathed, swallowing hard when a pinch of teeth met his pulse point. Shiro’s laugh was dark, and he didn’t stop, his tongue hot on Keith’s skin when it soothed over the bite. “Woah, hey,” Keith laughed lightly, his fingers curling into the hair at the back of Shiro’s head- it’d grown longer, long enough that he could tug gently. “What’s got you so excited?” Shiro did pull away then, a little hum and a kiss pressed below Keith’s ear before parting.

“I want to try and get your tail in today. Do you think you can manage it?”

“Yes,” there was no hesitation, “I want to go as far as we can today.” He caught Shiro’s look, and Keith narrowed his eyes. “I promise to safeword if it gets to be too much. But I’m ready. I’m relaxed. I’m in the right mindset, and physically, I’m at one-hundred percent.” The smile he earned for his efforts could light up his world for years to come, and Keith smiled back when Shiro’s arm slipped around his waist. 

“Well, if you insist.”

Shiro led him to the playroom, just the same as he had their first session, and just the same, he set up the folding massage table. Keith stripped and clambered onto it, arching his back and stretching languidly, smirking when Shiro eyed his ass and smoothed his palm down Keith’s spine. Again, he didn’t stop, turning it into a massage of sorts, the pads of his fingers and even his nails dancing along Keith’s spine, raking up to his neck, down over his shoulders, squeezing the muscle of his bicep. The sensations kept going until a tingling sensation started up in the base of Keith’s skull, and spilled over, making him shiver. He was warm, and goosebumps still rose on his skin. Still, Shiro worked him over.

“Oh, I could worship your hands...” 

The words were out before Keith could stop them, but Shiro seemed pleased to hear it. More than pleased, it soon became clear, as he slipped his palm over Keith’s face, gripping tight enough to keep his mouth shut, his fingers slotted easily over his lips and the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah? Do so, pup.” Keith groaned low, and obeyed.

He tongued over Shiro’s palm, his eyes drifting shut as he felt the cool material of Shiro’s prosthetic still tracing designs on his back. Keith kissed and suckled and bit at the skin, pushed his head forward to nuzzle into the meat of Shiro’s hand, feeling where the skin was rough and calloused, contrasted with the softer parts of his palm. He traced over Shiro’s heart line with his lips, then his tongue, then his teeth, before nibbling the finger tucked against his mouth. Shiro pushed, and Keith’s lips parted around the digit, sucking messily until he drooled. He bit down then, a reflex, and growled in satisfaction when Shiro didn’t pull away. Keith took full advantage of this, gnawing gently on the digit in his mouth.

Of course, he had to let go eventually, and Keith whined pitifully.

“Such a chewy, messy pup,” Shiro taunted, and Keith shuddered when his own saliva was smeared back over his shoulders. “Who knew you’d be so mouthy, hmm? I think we’ll have to do something about that soon, can’t let you chew my fingers to a pulp every time we play…”

Keith whined low in agreement, wriggling his hips. Shiro took the hint, and his hands began to travel down. Keith forced himself to relax as strong hands pushed and kneaded at his ass and thighs, and Shiro even had the audacity to trace a feather-light touch up along his balls, causing them to draw up tight as blood rushed south. Keith muttered a curse, his face burning, and his head dropped to the massage table as a slick finger circled his rim, and slowly pressed in.

“What was that, pup?”

“Nothing, Sir.” To his own ears, Keith already sounded wrecked, and when Shiro began to push in and out, twisting his wrist and soon adding a second finger, Keith began to truly unravel. He knew he was only being stretched for the plug, but Shiro was still intent on giving him pleasure, and when Shiro curled his fingers up, grazing his prostate and caressing over his balls again, Keith broke, grinding his face down into the padding beneath him and begging, “Fuck, fuck please, Sir. Just put it in, I want- fuck…”

“Tell me, puppy.”

“Anything.” Keith grunted, blinking. “My tail, your cock, I want to be filled, I need something inside me. I need more.” Shiro hummed thoughtfully, and Keith felt his fingers shift inside him again, twisting, curling. He moaned brokenly, clawing at the mat. “Oh fuck, please…” Shiro carefully slipped his fingers out, and Keith nearly sobbed, thinking he was being punished, before the familiar feel of his tail, freshly covered with lube that was cool to the touch, began to tease his hole. Keith reached up, curled his fingers into his collar to ground himself. “Thank you… Fuck, yes-” Shiro pushed, and Keith arched, his eyes rolling back as the plug twisted against his hole, slowly slipping in. “Just like that, Shiro…” The teasing continued, the burn as he stretched around the plug staying manageable, and Keith felt his mind slipping, allowed himself to sink- Shiro was right there to pull him back when he was needed, just as he’d promised.

This lasted until Keith felt himself give, the tail opening him up and settling flush against his prostate, filling him, intense. The feeling pushed his heart into his throat, and Keith’s skin flushed with heat, too much, his body tense and telling him to get rid of the intrusion. Shiro interrupted these thoughts then, both his hands on Keith’s shoulders, squeezing and kneading the muscle, stroking down over Keith’s spine.

“It’s in, baby. You’ve done it. All you need to do now is relax for me…”

Easier said than done, but Shiro’s hands, those hands, kept smoothing over every bit of Keith they could reach, massaging their way down his back, carding through his hair, rubbing circles over his chest until he was swaying and growling lovingly under Shiro’s touch. Gradually, Keith found he could breathe through the sensation, even come to enjoy it, and after a short cough he laughed, relaxing into Shiro’s arms and groaning.

“Everyone always calls me a tightass, but this is ridiculous…” Shiro had pity on him and laughed, moving back to his front.

“Oh, Keith…” Shiro cradled his face in his hands, pressed forward for a kiss. “Look at you-” And another. “I’m so proud. You’re so adorable,” more kisses, that grew longer, deeper, until Shiro was capturing Keith’s lips and tongue in a dance that made him lose his head again. Keith was in only his skin and a collar, on his hands and knees with a tail plug inside him, and he was making out with quite possibly the most attractive person he had ever met in his life, inside and out. Sue him if it was a little overwhelming. He was breathless when Shiro finally pulled away, but still braced himself up on his fists boldly when Shiro paced around him again, looking him over, petting along his back.

“Why don’t you give me a little wag, pup?”

He complied, swaying his hips, and felt the tail swing back and forth, shifting the plug against his prostate and sending sparks of pleasure racing up his spine. Keith let out a guttural moan, and preened at the next bit of praise Shiro showered him with, kneading his ass with a quiet, “Good boy. Very good. You’re doing so well, you’re truly becoming a pup, aren’t you?” Keith growled in response, wagging again, and Shiro squeezed harder. “My pup.”

_Yes, yours._

“How do you feel about a treat, pup?”

_Please._

Keith groaned instead, swaying and pushing back against Shiro’s hand. He wagged again when the table clicked and jolted. Shiro was putting him level with his cock again. “Good boy,” he repeated, moving back towards Keith’s front, his hand trailing up Keith’s body as he went. “So good for me. Relax now, tell me what you want.”

“Fuck my face,” Keith’s voice was much weaker than he’d expected, but he still got the satisfaction of watching Shiro’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Please, Sir? I can take it if you go slow-” Hands caressing his cheeks stopped him, and Shiro ducked down for a kiss, one Keith rose up eagerly to meet. He kept his head tilted up as Shiro passed his hand over his throat.

“Yeah. Anything for you, pup.” Shiro reached to begin undoing his belt and fly. Keith ducked forward to mouth, noisy and sloppy, over the bulge in the material of his boxers, and Shiro cursed softly, shuddering and gripping the back of Keith’s hair. Rather than yank him away, he held his pup in place, grinding forward against his face and earning an eager whine. “Two solid taps on my leg if you need to stop. Got it?” He did pull this time, and Keith hissed softly.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy.”

“May I touch myself during?” Keith asked, smirking and drawing his tongue up and over the head of Shiro’s cock when a damp spot appeared on his boxers. “Please?” He tacked on, and that seemed to do it.

“Yes, pup.”

Keith didn’t let up as Shiro reached to pull his cock free, his tongue finding Shiro’s fingers as often as it passed over his cock, and he giggled lightly when Shiro growled at him and shoved him back.

“Don’t know whether you need a spanking or a muzzle,” he growled, pumping his cock to full length, his prosthetic keeping Keith at bay. Keith, feeling rather bold, gave his tail another wag and purred darkly up at Shiro.

“Both, Sir.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Shiro promised, and Keith laughed when he was suddenly yanked close again, parting his lips and relaxing his jaw, his mouth open invitingly, wet and warm and waiting while Shiro gripped himself, lined up, and stuffed Keith’s mouth full of his cock. Keith hummed, jaw aching, and felt drool already pooling on the surface of his tongue. He suckled, shifting his tongue to block the back of his throat and encouraging Shiro to move by hollowing his cheeks and pulling, breathing in through his nose before pushing forward again. Shiro’s hands rested on either side of his face, to steady him as much as to guide him, and Keith relaxed again as Shiro began to thrust his hips in shallow, slow movements, his cock heavy as it slid in and out of Keith’s stretched lips.

Keith waited until they’d each found a rhythm, Shiro thrusting steadily, his own lungs working in time with those thrusts, before carefully reaching for his own cock and pumping it in time with Shiro’s thrusts. His Sir must have noticed, because his thrusts sped up, his hands traveled from Keith’s face to his neck, where two fingers slipped beneath his collar, pulling it tight against his throat as slick noises passed from Keith’s lips. It was close, not tight enough to choke, but it was easy to be overwhelmed- Shiro was fucking into his mouth eagerly now, tugging his collar, and Keith could feel the muscles in his abdomen coiling with each stroke of his cock, his body clamping down on the tail in his ass and making it feel that much larger. It was a wonder he lasted as long as he did. Keith seized up, squeezing his eyes shut and humming to avoid gagging on Shiro’s cock, feeling himself grow almost painfully tight just before he came, spilling on Shiro’s table with a choked sob, blinking back tears and sniffling as he tightened his fist, fucking his hand through the overstimulation and finally relaxing with a tremble in his lean frame, intent on seeing Shiro’s pleasure through to the end. He made a surprised noise when instead, Shiro drew back, and Keith opened his mouth to protest, instead coughing hoarsely.

“Shiro- what the fuck-”

“Shh, shh. Relax, pup.” His hand was back at Keith’s throat, rubbing down to his chest, and while it couldn’t soothe the rawness inside, Keith felt his harsh breathing evening out, and tipped his head forward to rest it on his arm. “I promise I’m not stopping.” Shiro’s words were as soft as his touch. “I want to come on your ass.”

“Fuck,” he croaked, “Yes, please.”

Shiro responded with a peck to his lips, and Keith hummed, bliss washing over him.

“Relax for me.” Shiro circled back around, his hands never leaving Keith’s body, and it was so easy to obey, to sink down onto his elbows and drop his head, let his eyes drift shut, even knowing what was about to come. “Good boy…” Shiro’s voice was thick, and in the next moment, Keith remained absolutely silent beyond his heavy breathing, listening to the soft slap of skin and quiet grunts torn from Shiro’s lips. Then, he began to speak.

“You don’t know how good you look like this, Keith. How I’ve fantasized about this moment…” Keith moaned in answer, and Shiro continued, “Thinking about you with your tail in, imagining how you’d look- fuck, nothing I could dream up comes close,” Shiro groaned. “You’re the image of a happy little pup…” Keith swayed his hips again, slow, and heard a growl. “To think you’re doing this for me…” Shiro gasped sharply, and Keith felt his ass painted warm and thick with Shiro’s come. He flinched, but didn’t pull away as Shiro finished with a ragged noise. The table shifted and creaked as Shiro leaned forward, and Keith felt a single hand smoothing up his back again.

“Hey. Feeling good?”

“Very,” Keith sighed. 

“Good.” He could hear the smile in Shiro’s voice. “Are you okay to get your tail out?” Keith hummed and nodded, twitching when Shiro gripped the base of his tail. “Easy now. Push a bit for me.” Keith obeyed, grunting and dropping his head again at the sensation, and then came the relief, followed by a rush that left him lightheaded. 

“Wow,” Keith breathed out a little laugh.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Just- fuck, I’m just really happy.” Shiro hummed, and Keith felt something warm and wet sponging away at his backside. 

“I am really proud of you, Keith. I know how much you wanted this.” The cloth disappeared. “Good if I carry you to the couch? I’ll take care of everything here and then join you.”

He just couldn’t refuse.

A few minutes later found them each on Shiro’s couch, Keith dressed comfortably once more and snuggled up to Shiro’s side. He’d arrived with two mugs of tea again, and Keith could taste the soothing sweetness of honey in his own. Shiro had rubbed his back then, and his little piece of heaven was complete.

“If you aren’t up to discussing our play, tell me,” Shiro had intoned quietly after a while. Atlas had settled on his lap, and he was stroking the cat gently as he spoke. Keith blinked, wondering how much time had passed, and slowly shook his head.

“I’m lucid. What are you thinking?”

“I want you to ask me for permission before coming each time, from now on until the end of our training together.”

“...Ah.”

“You can say no, of course. You can opt out of any part of your training, anything I ask of you. It’s only one way of saying I own you, own your body, own your pleasure. Symbolic, to come only when I’ve said so.” Keith mulled this over for a minute, seeing both the appeal and the danger that came with it. Could he handle it, if he wanted to come, but had to wait for an answer? And what if he never got one? Worse, this meant Shiro could flat out refuse to let him pleasure himself from miles away, and there wasn’t a damn thing Keith could do about it. That was exciting.

“I’ll do it. I’ll ask. I am yours to own, Sir, completely.” 

Shiro chuckled deeply, curled his hand around Keith’s jaw and pulled him into a kiss.

“I’m glad we agree.” He stroked his hands through Keith’s hair then, and Keith settled his head on Shiro’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and the hum of air in his lungs as he continued, “Your body has been made ready to become a pup, and next it’s time to adjust your mind.” Keith shifted, turned his head to study Shiro’s face a bit more clearly. He was smiling. 

“I think you’re ready to take our play to the next level.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro takes Keith out on a date, Lance's antics continue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was a fool to believe I could dictate how many chapters this fic would have or when it would update, here's a bunch of words, just *John Mulaney voice* TAKE EM AWAY

As it turned out, Shiro didn't stop him from coming- didn't even threaten to do so in the days after Keith's little pledge. But Keith still behaved- still asked first, whether he wanted to wind down from a long day or was simply following orders, training and playing with his tail in and his collar tight around his neck- Keith took the time to reach, tense and aroused and hand shaking, for his phone to ask Shiro to let him come. Occasionally, he was made to call, and had to wait as the phone rang on, surely left to ring till the last minute on purpose. Keith somehow remained patient, flushed and needy, until Shiro answered and gave him verbal permission, listening as Keith got himself off with a fist pumping his cock or fucking his tail in and out of himself with little grunts and whines of Shiro's name.

Shiro would always talk him down after, praise him, call him a good boy, bring Keith back to Earth using his name. Sometimes, they'd shift to talking. Small talk about the weather, to Keith's work, to Keith's mother. Bringing up Shiro's personal life always led to a dead end- he claimed he didn't do much, that there wasn't a lot of him to figure out, even going so far as to joke he was boring at one point. Keith could recognize walls up as he'd built his own long ago, and he couldn't fault Shiro for it- when he forgot or strayed, rather than push the subject, Keith backed off, stuck to talking about himself with the only one he'd ever trusted with so much information. He didn't mind it- found he even enjoyed talking, when the listener seemed to actually listen, caring and open and always meeting him with acceptance the likes of which Keith had rarely before experienced. He understood Shiro wasn't trying to shut him out- rather, he was hiding, and Keith wouldn't be the one to expose him. He could wait.

And anyway, Shiro's devotion didn't stop at the bedroom.

“Have fun, you two,” a smirking voice to Keith's right made him turn.

“Shut up, Lance.”

“Hey, you get to leave a project site in a damn Audi instead of the fartmobile-”

“Artmobile.”

“-I'm allowed to be a little jealous.”

“This was your idea!” Keith pointed out, but a stubborn smile was tugging at his lips, and he lightly shoved Lance's arm. “Go home to Allura.” Lance sighed, feigning a swoon and leaning directly onto Keith.

“Ah, Allura. My love, my heart, my one and only, my-”

“Yes, we know.” Keith shoved at him again. He was stronger, but Lance was taller. Not to mention a handful. “Lance,” Keith huffed, straightening when he saw a familiar sleek car pull up. “He's waiting.” Lance finally had mercy and let up.

“Alright. Behave.” 

Keith snorted.

“Funny. I almost expected to be taken to a flight museum,” Keith couldn’t help teasing as he and Shiro pulled up minutes later to an empty-looking park, several different trails and roads alike leading away into the woods. Shiro laughed, and didn’t yet cut the engine.

“That’s coming, promise,” Shiro tossed him a wink, and Keith flushed. He glanced up in confusion as Shiro got out of the car. “Come on.” 

“You gonna turn that off first?” Keith asked as he scrambled to follow. He stood there, dumbfounded, as Shiro crossed in front of the car and stood by him.

“Nope.”

“What are you-”

“Get in the driver’s seat.”

“What?” Keith asked, caught between exhilaration and horror. Shiro slipped into the passenger’s side of the vehicle, and Keith could only watch.

“You heard me. You want to, don’t you?” Shiro met his eyes with a smile, open and friendly, and Keith realized Shiro was ready and willing to hear any answer he could have gotten. Keith quickly crossed and slipped into the driver’s seat, gripping the wheel. “That’s what I thought.” Shiro sounded elated. “There’s no one around,” he pointed out casually.

_No one around._

It had rained just that morning, and the asphalt was still wet, the dark surface reflecting the sky and the few leaves that had fallen early from the trees, painting a scene in shades of blue and orange beneath them as Keith narrowed his eyes, shifting gears and pulling from the parking spot with a satisfying crunch of leaves and gravel. He zeroed in on one of the roads, one that set off winding through the trees and dipping low over the hills, disappearing out of sight from where they were sitting. Then, he shifted again, pressed the gas, and they were off.

It should have terrified anyone else, his speed paired with the lack of actual experience on the road, but when Keith dared to glance over, Shiro was grinning as wide as he was, leaning forward, his eyes burning bright as they fixed on the path ahead that took them lurching dangerously around bends and dropping suddenly over the hills. The scenery was a blur, and Keith was aware with heart-racing certainty that screwing up now would cost every life currently in the car, and then some. He was sweating, his knuckles white on the wheel, eyes narrowed under a heavy brow as they traveled the path ahead, always looking to the next bend, his mind leagues ahead of his body, directing it before the road could take him by surprise. This disconnect was the only thing keeping them alive, and it could only be maintained at breakneck speeds.

At least, those were the lies Keith’s brain settled on.

Eventually, the winding park road ran out, and they were found drifting aimlessly along another country road, far outside the city and sandwiched between two scarily empty fields, the land seeming to stretch on forever. Keith slowed to a more reasonable speed, his heart still thumping painfully against his ribs, and eventually pulled over, cutting the engine and slumping back against his seat with a sigh. Shiro was the first to break the silence, with a near whoop of a laugh that had Keith smiling.

“Holy shit, Keith.” Shiro blew out a breath, huffing his hair out of his face. “That was awesome.”

“My blood’s still up,” Keith’s voice came out shaky, and he could feel Shiro’s eyes passing over his body.

“Yeah? Come here.”

“Are you serious?” Keith lifted his head. It seemed he was. “My driving makes you horny?”

“I’m only going to help you relax.” Shiro’s big, round eyes were the picture of innocence. “Look at you, baby.” The soft tone was starting to weaken him. “Let me help.”

“Oh, fuck it,” Keith huffed, tearing free of the seatbelt and clambering over onto Shiro’s lap, his shoulders hunched and pressed right up against the ceiling as he stooped over Shiro, who laughed and inched forward. “Wait,” Keith pressed two fingers to his lips, and after an initial surprised look Shiro closed his eyes and kissed them. Ignoring him, Keith reached to carefully slip the keys from the ignition, dropping them safely on the seat before turning back, immediately met with strong arms around his waist and heated kisses trailing his throat. A hiss slipped free as arousal shot tight and hot through his gut. “Really,” Keith groaned, and curled his fingers into Shiro’s hair. He didn’t let up. He went down. “Really,” Keith to had to repeat, “If we go too far- what about the seats…”

“Fuck the seats.”

“We’re about to.”

Keith had dozed on the way home, Shiro consulting the GPS to figure out where the hell he’d taken them, and Keith had only laughed lightly at the teasing accusations of attempts to run away and elope, but instead, his heart was still pounding. As if he’d ever be worthy of such a concept. The next day was spent in a sort of daze, warm and dreamy and impenetrable even by Lance's usual antics. What did break him out of all the daydreaming and sighing was the sight of a familiar bike parked outside the little house.

“Mom?” Keith greeted, as he stepped inside. Krolia was on the couch, wrestling with Kosmo, who jumped up and barreled into Keith in excitement. “What-” he broke off as Kosmo assaulted him with kisses, and he shoved the dog down, “-What are you doing here?”

“Is it so strange that I wish to spend the evening with my son?”

He remembered then- her and dad's anniversary had been around the end of summer. The date was approaching quickly. And she was here. Keith slowly lowered Kosmo from where the mutt had planted his paws on his chest again.

“No.” He said softly. “Not strange at all.”

Their night ended up being a repeat of Keith's typical schedule, but with Krolia tailing along. Rather than seem bored with it all, she seemed delighted to see Keith's daily routine, and he did his best not to overthink things or stumble over his words when he was suddenly asked a question about his life or corrected in other aspects as well.

“Cold water for bloodstains, Keith. Cold.”

“And not questioning why there are bloodstains on my clothes in the first place?”

“Priorities,” had been her answer, and a laugh had slipped his lips before he could stop it. He wasn't about to win son of the year, but at least he hadn't stumbled or stuttered over his words with her around now. Keith allowed himself that small victory as he watched her speed off on the bike, well after dark.

“I kinda wanna be her,” he whispered to Kosmo, who only snuffled heavily at Keith's hand as if trying to find a treat. He led the beast back inside and obliged him, before flopping down on the couch, warm inside. Proud of himself. Keith pulled his phone free- he hadn't yet spoken to Shiro that day, and normally, the other would have reached out by now. Maybe he was busy, or assumed Keith needed his space. Well, he could change that. Keith shuffled to his bedroom, pulling the top drawer of his dresser free. There, nestled amongst the soft fabric of his clothing, was his collar, sleek and sexy and waiting for him. Keith picked it up delicately, nudging the drawer shut with his hip as he brought the smooth leather to his face, nuzzling slowly over the material, letting his own body heat seep into it. Then, Keith finally placed two fingers against his neck, just as Shiro had done, and wound the strip around his neck. He pulled it tight then, cinched it, and let the initial shiver pass through him.

Keith flopped onto the bed, kicking his pants off as he went, and sinking into the sheets with a groan. Rolling over onto his back, he grinned wide as he sent the text.

_Hey. Ask me what I'm wearing._

As usual, only a few moments passed before Shiro messaged him back.

_Quite the horny cliché tonight, aren't we?_

_Only for you._

_Unfortunately I'm in demand elsewhere. You'll have to get in line, pup ;)_

Keith sat up, trying not to feel uneasy.

_Oh? What's going on?_

_Just a small problem. It's really nothing to worry about._

_Are you sure there isn't anything I can do to help? As moral support maybe? I could just… Listen._

Keith waited in anticipation, chewing his lower lip and staring at the phone screen. Something was going on with Shiro, and he'd been asking for sex? He could only hope Shiro wouldn't hate him for this- Keith jumped as his phone buzzed in his hands.

_Sex is a nice way to decompress._

_Are you sure? You've got to be in the right mindset for it, too._

_I am, Keith. I promise._

He hesitated, before sighing softly and narrowing his eyes.

_Then would you be willing to call me?_ The response was immediate.

_Aw, you don't trust me? I'll call, if it'll make you more comfortable. Okay?_

_Good._

Keith was worried, feeling torn on whether he should even be worried. He couldn't demand that Shiro tell him anything beyond what he needed to know for their sessions, but had everything they'd done, all the time they'd spent outside the playroom together, did all that mean nothing? Had he read too much into it? Keith grabbed his laptop, beginning to set up the call. He was sure he hadn't, but could he really be sure without asking? Keith's sigh was heavy.

“Hey.” Admittedly, the combination of Shiro's wide grin and his warm voice soothed him, and Keith felt himself relaxing. “You're still worried.” Apparently, not relaxed enough.

“When you tell me there's something wrong, I worry.” Keith kept his voice soft, respectful, as if he were a pup speaking to his master. He knew he wasn't, not in that moment, but the tone was something he'd learned to use with Shiro- it was disarming, kept his words from sounding like accusations, and thus far had kept negotiations from becoming arguments. In a way, he was emulating Shiro, and that alone was enough to appeal to him. “I'm not worrying because I want to know everything about you or control your life- I worry because I care about you. You know you're more than just a handler to me, you're my friend. I like to think I'm yours, too- You don't _have_ to confide in me. But it would make me feel better if you… felt like you could.”

“Keith… Hey, it's okay. It is, I promise.” Shiro had listened to his speech quietly, his eyes large and somber, and when Keith finally drifted off, unsure what else to say, he'd leaned close, as if they were together now, not speaking through a screen. “I am your friend. And you are mine. I trust you, I feel safe with you. I do feel like I can tell you… anything.” Shiro breathed a laugh, looked away, and Keith recognized the nerves. He turned his own eyes down, and heard Shiro's voice again. “I'm not good at it… but I know I can. I'm not used to talking about my problems, but I know you're there for me. I'm… getting there.” Keith looked up, and when their eyes caught, Shiro smiled at him. “I know I can't keep asking you to be patient with me, to deal with my need to keep everything bottled up until I'm brave enough to open up… but I'm going to. I just… need to get this taken care of. And then I'll talk to you. I'll tell you anything you want to know.” Shiro's eyes flicked over his face, searching, Keith guessed. He let his features smooth, even smiled.

“Yeah. Shiro, yes. That sounds perfect.”

“Good. Great. I'm, uh… sorry I had to go and ruin the mood,” Shiro murmured, a bit softer now, and Keith smirked. 

“You didn't ruin anything.”

“No? Still a horny pup after all that emotional talk, huh?” Keith bit his lip, shot Shiro a shy look, and squirmed. “Or,” Shiro continued, a revelation in his voice, “Maybe all that emotional talk is what turns you on.”

Keith breathed out, slipped a hand south- he hadn't bothered with putting his pants back on for the call, and it was easy to palm himself through the thin fabric of his boxers.

“Mmn… You could say that,” he admitted. 

“You're so endearing.” Keith could hear the quiet zip of Shiro's fly as he spoke, and leaned back. “You never told me what you're wearing.” Keith groaned.

“I'm right here in front of you now…”

“Tell me anyway.”

“My collar,” Keith huffed, “And no pants.”

“Scandalous.”

“I hate you,” Keith arched a bit, palmed lower, and his head snapped up when he heard a slick, quiet sound from Shiro's end. He wondered if he was imagining the huskiness of his voice when Shiro spoke again.

“Going to love me in just a second, pup.” Keith growled low at that, and dragged the found out, letting the pitch pick up at the end. He'd squirmed again, shifted the laptop, and Shiro's voice reached his ears once more. “Wow… You really do love it when I call you that, huh? Turn your camera back on yourself for me.” Keith struggled to do as he was told, carefully shifting back again and slowly taking his cock out. Shiro's camera shifted, and Keith's mouth watered at the sight. Shiro was fully erect, flushed and leaking at the tip, his hand wrapped around the base of his cock and pumping up and down the shaft, slow and lazy. As Keith watched, Shiro's fist tightened around himself, and they both let out a groan. “With me, pup.” Shiro's voice was dark, firm, as were his eyes when Keith met them again. Shiro seemed intent on keeping them at an agonizingly slow pace, twisting his wrist up his shaft only occasionally, thumbing over the folds of skin just below his head, brushing feather-light touches over his balls. 

Keith followed every movement, growling his disapproval each time Shiro slowed or moved away from a particularly nice spot, but eventually, he was flushed and hot, biting his lip, shooting a pleading look at his Sir. Shiro only chuckled at his predicament, despite being in exactly the same state.

“You know what to do, puppy.”

Words seemed harder to form all of a sudden.

“I… I want… I need…”

“Go on, pup.” Shiro's voice was calm, gentle, his head tilting and his eyes soft. “You can do it. Tell me what you need.”

“I need to come,” the words released in a quick burst of air, “Please, please, let me come… Sir, please…”

“No.”

Keith's eyes went wide, and he grit his teeth, pleasure rolling through him and making his muscles seize up. He couldn't argue with his master, but if he didn't come now-

Shiro laughed.

“Aw, pup. Your poor face…”

Keith whined, sounding much more broken than he'd meant to. He was wound up tightly, the surface of his skin uncomfortably hot. His cock ached, heavy and needing a release-

“Come, baby.”

Another order he couldn't refuse. Keith couldn't even manage a verbal thank you, and prayed his body language would be enough as he folded in on himself, pumping his cock merciless and fast until he felt like crying, and then he came with a quiet sob, the final shock of arousal causing his abdomen to spasm painfully and his head to spin. Keith had fallen forward on his forearm, ignoring the way he'd nearly crashed himself directly into the laptop- he doubted Shiro minded, considering the quiet but heavy breathing coming from the speaker just below his ear. Keith stayed, worked on breathing slow and deep, and listened to Shiro's grunts and growls. He sounded like a pup. He sounded like Keith. There was enough time to wonder- would he behave? Would he be a devil, truly let go in the headspace and cause trouble in the one place he was allowed to do so? Keith really couldn't decide, and he was distracted by the raw, gasping groan that signaled Shiro had come, and the small sigh afterwards that meant he was satisfied.

“Are you okay, Keith?” Keith dragged himself up onto all fours, and then collapsed onto the couch, curling up and tucking his head.

“Yeah,” he breathed, his eyes shut. His chest heaved. “I feel good, Shiro…”

“Glad to hear that.” He heard a shuffle, and when Keith peeled his eyes open, he saw Shiro's own eyes drifting shut, his body slumped back. “Wish I could pet you. Feel your heart beating and your lungs working. Help you soothe all that…” Keith hummed.

“Sounds amazing.”

“Yeah?” Keith heard Shiro shift again, couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. “Got to stop teasing me when we're apart, then. Hm?” It came from a distance, dreamlike, and some memory or other, some feeling, told Keith he really didn't need to answer. That whoever possessed that angelic voice really wouldn't mind. What came next made him even warmer, made him sink ever deeper.

“Good night, Keith. Sweet dreams.”

That Saturday morning was the first time Keith felt very little other than a quiet anticipation for their session that day, and he'd smiled soft and sweet at Shiro when the door opened before he could even knock.

“Keith,” his name was spoken quietly now, and the hug he was swept up into was tighter, more intimate. Keith let himself melt into it, uncaring who was out there to see as he folded his arm around Shiro and rested his head on the man's broad shoulder. “Are you up to going right to the playroom today?”

Keith stepped back with a grin. “Oh, yes.”

Shior spoke to him as they walked, and Keith stooped down as Atlas passed to smooth a hand over her lithe form, earning a tiny chirp in response.

“I told you before that we've changed your body, helped it adapt to the muscles and movements it needs to mimic being a pup, and that now it is time to mold your mind,” Shiro was saying as they walked along, and Keith straightened from his crouch, nodding. “Your pup headspace will be different from a typical subspace in that your way of thinking is shifted just slightly, based on a sort of pup persona we'll build together later. Your first step is attaining the full headspace- it takes dedication and practice like any other part of play. You've already gotten close a few times… can you tell me when?” Shiro turned a smile on him as he unlocked the playroom, and Keith hummed softly as he followed his Sir inside.

“I started nuzzling my bed the other day after playing. I've started growling and howling when I feel pleasure. I-” he flushed red here, “I chewed your fingers. I'm sorry about that, by the way.” Shiro only chuckled, slipping Keith's collar from his bag. Keith stood at attention, lifting his chin and closing his eyes as Shiro fixed the collar around his neck, before brushing a thumb along his cheekbone.

“You're forgiven, pup.”

Keith wanted to sink to his knees.

“Moments like that were you letting go, getting closer than ever before to dropping social expectations and precedents regarding your behavior. When you achieve the headspace, you'll lose these completely, you'll be a human pup within your mind and body, and you'll be able to play, act, and have fun as your pup self.”

“Sounds… Deep. Relaxing.”

“It can be, for a lot of people,” Shiro nodded, and Keith began to strip down, easy and comfortable even when he could feel Shiro's eyes raking over him. Sue him if he showed off just a bit. “I know it certainly is for me.” That got his attention, but Keith continued carefully pulling his clothing free and folding it neatly, before slipping each garment into his bag. Once he was bare before Shiro, minus his collar, he straightened, popping his hip and crossing his arms. Shiro had rarely mentioned being a pup himself after revealing that he was in the first place, and Keith debated pushing further for a moment, before deciding fuck it.

“What is it like, for you?” Shiro looked away, chewed his lower lip.

“It's letting go in the truest, purest sense. It's shrugging off your humanity and putting your trust, your life, in someone else's hands for a little while. They're responsible for your behavior, your comfort, in some cases even when you eat and use the bathroom. They hold your pleasure and pain in their hands, your humiliation- your mind and body belong to them, to do with as you please.” Shiro was smiling faintly, and his eyes had drifted shut. He opened them again, and his look firmed when he caught Keith looking at him. Keith blushed, but Shiro only turned towards him, a friendly look on his face. “It is, in short, being a dog.”

Keith snorted, and a warm look was tossed his way.

“Get out your mat- good boy. On all fours, now. I'm going to teach you the first exercise for adapting your mind to our play. There will be two today. You'll drop the meditation exercise, alternate between working on your body and your mind each day.”

“Yes, Sir.” Keith answered dutifully, sinking down onto the mat once it was rolled out onto the floor and rolling his neck and shoulders, grunting when a heavy hand landed there and kneaded the source of tension just at the top of his spine. Keith leaned closer to the touch, and felt his efforts rewarded with a gentle dig at the spot. “Oh…” Shiro hummed, massaging Keith's neck until he'd nearly sagged forward, and then pulled away.

“Your first exercise will consist of lying down on your side, and curling up. This position is important, but make sure you're comfortable. You'll be lying there for a while. At first, you'll be doing this exercise alone. Once you're there, you'll want to lie very still and do your best to clear and empty your mind- it's a lot like your meditation, but the difference is, when a thought comes you're going to grab it and focus on it. Let it repeat over and over until it fades to make way for the next thought. Don't react to any of these thoughts, just acknowledge them and move on. The point is to teach you to focus on your desires and your thoughts, to track them and be aware of what your mind and body are feeling, while also training yourself to ignore your body's demands. There will be a second part to this exercise that builds on it, but that will come later. For now, just do this. If you start feeling drowsy, feel free to drift off. I won't leave you completely alone, but I'll be sitting away, near enough to intervene when I need to, but far enough that I won't be a distraction.”

“I don't mind your kinds of distractions, Sir,” Keith teased, and Shiro's fingers sunk into his hair, mussing it up as he scratched.

“Start now. And behave.”

Keith obeyed. He pondered the decision for a moment, before settling down on his right side, curling his limbs slightly in on himself and bowing at the waist. He closed his eyes, shifting his arm a bit, then his legs, until each joint was cushioned in a way that wouldn't bother him, and then, Keith waited. His thoughts stayed quiet at first, with very little going on around him. Even Shiro was dead silent, after the initial shuffle announcing he'd moved away. Keith let his brain latch onto Shiro, let the thought, the idea of him, repeat over and over, sure it wouldn't fade away, until a slight itch on his ankle distracted him, and soon Keith was focusing on that, letting the thought repeat, feeling his skin crawl as he ignored it, remaining absolutely still. Without movement, his limbs became numb, and with his eyes closed, it nearly felt like he was floating. Numb, floating. Keith drilled the concepts over and over in his mind. Meanwhile, Shiro stayed very quiet, refraining from distracting Keith to the point where he, too, remained motionless in order to avoid making any noise at all. Occasionally, the thought would hit Keith that this was happening- that Shiro was staying stock still in an effort not to call his attention elsewhere, and Keith would have to force himself to let it go, lest his thoughts spiral into a tangent.

He broke when Shiro finally did move, hyper aware of the sound of clothing shuffling over his skin and heavy footsteps coming closer. Keith shivered under the touch to his shoulder.

“Hey, Keith.” Shiro's voice caressed his ears, the use of his name pulled him from the odd state he was in. “How are you feeling?” As usual, it took him a moment to find his voice.

“Weird.” Shiro chuckled. 

“It gets to feel a little more normal, after a time.” He was smoothing his palm down over Keith's back now, the feeling making Keith relax again and hum. “I want you on all fours, when you're ready.” Keith nodded slowly, remaining as he was until his head was a little clearer, the slight stiffness in his muscles closer to the surface. Then, he heaved himself up onto all fours, stretching out his limbs and shaking off the lethargy. Shiro's hands were caressing his chest and back immediately.

“Good boy. Now, I'm going to explain your second exercise for the day.” Keith tilted his head, letting Shiro know he was listening, and his Sir continued. “It's important that you associate pet play, and your headspace, with pleasure. In this exercise, you're going to strip down, and then get on all fours. You're going to fantasize about all your favorite things, the most sexy and thrilling thoughts to ever come to your mind, and you're going to touch yourself while fantasizing about these thoughts. The point is to get as hard as you can- but you're not going to come just yet.” Keith growled, and got a laugh in return. “The point isn't to be an asshole, pup. I promise. Once you're as hard as you can manage without giving yourself a release, you're going to stop and relax, and wait for about a minute. Then, you're going to visualize yourself with your tail in, and a hood fixed around your head. Get yourself as hard as you can again, and come thinking of pet play.” Keith gave a muffled groan, and Shiro began to pet his hair. “If you're comfortable, you can do it here with me now.”

Keith nodded- of course he was comfortable, of course he wanted to. The thought alone was exciting, and the added bonus of Shiro watching him was enough to make him warm just under his skin. But what exactly the most thrilling and sexy fantasies in his mind were, he still had to figure out. Thus far Shiro was the most thrilling and sexy thing that had ever happened to him- Keith decided he'd start there. He closed his eyes, wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, began to think of Shiro- Shiro's voice, Shiro's touch, Shiro's cock- he settled then, on thoughts of running his tongue over the shaft, placing lingering, loving kisses to the base, trailing his lips up to the head and suckling it between his lips- his hand followed the path of his fantasy, and soon Keith was flushed and hard in his hand, whining softly. Shiro's dark, deep rumble interrupted his fun.

“You can do better than that, pup.”

“I- I don't know if I can,” Keith admitted. “Up until very recently-” he twisted his wrist and gasped, “Ngh… I only did this to unwind. Quickly. There was never… any fantasizing, or savoring…” He calmed when Shiro's hand rested on the small of his back.

“Would you like me to talk to you?”

“Please, Sir.” Keith nodded. “About anything… your voice, it…”

“I know, pup.” Keith could hear the grin in his voice, and a quiet, thoughtful hum. Shiro's hand didn't move, but Keith could hardly care when what came out of his mouth next was, “I want to be underneath you.”

“W-what?” He spluttered, his cock immediately responding, “Sir?”

“I said, I'd like to be under you. Like to be fucked by you. Maybe in my hood, maybe you're in headspace too, maybe not.” The way he spoke, so casual, his voice deep and husky, Keith could almost believe this was something Shiro had thought about on the regular, had played in his mind over and over until he was comfortable speaking out loud about it. “I don't know what would be better-” it came out as a growl, almost animalistic, and Keith bucked his hips forward into his fist, “To be a pup, to have you as my Alpha, fucking into me for your own pleasure and growling in my ear…” Keith sped up, pumping his cock mercilessly and twisting his hand up and down the shaft, imagining it- how he'd mount Shiro, sink fangs into the back of his neck, cant his hips forward and rut into his plush ass, maybe hump his thigh, before slipping inside- Keith wondered, would Shiro be tight around him, loose from preparation? Would he whine and submit, would he growl and fight it? Did it matter, when it was Shiro? His Sir was speaking yet again, and Keith struggled to listen as his cock grew heavy and ached in his hand.

“That would be safer… it would feel safer, but then I think about how much I trust you. I imagine being your pup, having you as my handler. I don't know what you'd do, I don't know what kind of Dom you would be, and that excites me like nothing else.” Keith's whines had become growls, and the next he pitched low in his chest, drew it out, a clear challenge to Shiro, who curled his thick fingers around the back of Keith's neck and squeezed. “You like the thought, don't you? Doesn't matter if you're a handler or a pup, you'd enjoy controlling me. I can see it in your eyes, baby. You want it, and you want it badly.”

“Oh, and I'll have it,” Keith snarled back, and there was a pause during which he could feel Shiro's glare on him, before his head was forced down into the mat, a hand coming to rest over his own, pumping him mercilessly. Keith tried to hold the snarl in place, but his features contorted, arousal forcing a sob from his throat. “Shiro-!”

“ _Come_.”

He's not sure if he's silent when he obeys, but Keith feels his throat constrict in a shout, audible or no, followed by the rest of his body squeezing tight as the tension inside him snapped, and Keith came over his and Shiro's hands, feeling himself burn, the flame Shiro had coaxed to a roaring fire refusing to die out. Keith forced his head up, his muscles protesting and chest heaving as he reached for Shiro, yanking him down. As big and strong as he was, Shiro was caught off guard, and it was too easy to roll him onto his back. Keith scrambled over him, air still heaving in and out of his lungs. He settled his hips over Shiro's and then came to a stop, his reserves exhausted. Keith pitched forward, pushing his sweaty hair up and away from his forehead and breathing heavily, his eyes closed. He expected to be thrown off and pinned, punished for this pride that had gotten him nowhere, but Shiro didn't move, and when Keith finally peeled his eyes open again, that glare was still waiting for him, framed by a lovely shade of pink painted into Shiro's skin. Determination renewed, Keith felt his way down Shiro's body, grinning wickedly when he reached the bulge in his pants.

“You're hard.” He laughed, slipping his hands up and under Shiro's shirt. “You're hard from talking about being fucked. And by me, of all people,” Keith oddly felt none of the self consciousness he often associated with this sort of filthy talk. Instead, his words were coming out as a steady croon now as he hiked Shiro's shirt up to his collarbone, his smile all teeth when he reached for Shiro's pert nipples, squeezing them between his fingers and twisting cruelly. Shiro arched, his brows knitting as his jaw twitched, clearly trying to hold in a sound that wanted to escape. That wouldn't do. Keith twisted again, pulled, and as Shiro's eyes squeezed shut, Keith dug his nails into Shiro's chest and raked down, leaving bright, angry lines in their wake and causing Shiro to lurch again, this time letting slip a small, breathless groan that may have been a curse. Keith tangled his fingers in the longer hair at the top of Shiro's head then, and forced him back to the ground, smirking down at him.

“Tell me to stop.”

Shiro was silent.

Keith was determined to make quick work of Shiro, to overwhelm him with pleasure the way Shiro did for him, and his hands shook with the speed and zest with which he unbuckled Shiro's belt, undid his fly, and slipped his cock free. It didn't seem to bother him that he was entirely bare on top of his Sir, still mostly clothed- it felt natural, felt right, that he should be the one exposed as he swallowed down Shiro's cock, taking him as deep as he could and twisting and stroking his palm around the base. Keith's own discomfort mattered very little to him when Shiro seemed to fall apart beneath him, his prosthetic keeping him upright and balanced, his hand pressed tightly over his mouth, the skin seized between his teeth as he tried and failed to hold back the little moans that slipped past. Keith kept going until Shiro's hips were twitching upwards, swirling his tongue filthily over the head of his cock and palming his shaft until warmth burst on his tongue, and Keith choked, letting Shiro's release spurt over his throat and lips and closing his eyes as it flowed over his chin, slowing to a single, thick strand that reached the mat as he remained still, panting and gripping Shiro like a lifeline.

The next moments passed by in a haze during which he refused to move or open his eyes, but Keith was vaguely aware of a calloused thumb smoothing over his lip and collecting the mess, clearing it away as best it could before it was replaced by a warm, damp rag sponging at his mouth and tongue. He did his best to help, admittedly likely only making things worse in the end. Still, Keith remained motionless on all fours as he was cleaned up with soothing passes of a hand and towel over his body, and soon came the soft scratching of the mat being wiped down. His shoulders ached, and just before Keith decided it was better to let himself tip forward than continue to crouch like this, Shiro's hands were on his face.

“Hey. You okay, Keith?”

“I'm good, Shiro…”

“Come here.” 

It was easy for Keith to allow himself to be guided into a close hug- more than a hug. Shiro had sat, leaned back against the wall, and after cleaning them both up and tucking himself back into his jeans, had pulled Keith right into his lap and folded body and limb around him, encompassing him in warmth and touch and pressure. Safety. He wouldn't admit to it later, but Keith melted, perfectly obedient and pliant again when it came to receiving cuddles from Shiro. It wasn't long before he was petting over Keith's hair, making him want to groan and snuggle closer. He happily did both.

At least he did, until his mind seemed to come back, and Keith remembered their conversation earlier in the week.

“Hey… Shiro?” He spoke tentatively, and a little hum was all he got in return. Rather than discourage him, it made it easier to ask. “You said you'd talk to me about what was going on with you… You said you were dealing with a problem earlier in the week. If… if you can talk about it, I want to hear what was bothering you.” There was a pause. Then,

“Ah…” As if Shiro had just remembered himself. “Yeah… One of the other pups I work with, he… He broke our contract.” This was the first time Shiro had mentioned one of his other clients. Keith looked up. Shiro had closed his eyes, his brow furrowed. “...I was forced to let him go.” It didn't sound as though Shiro wanted to go on, and so Keith wasn't about to pry, but he was surprised when that rough but gentle tone continued on, “I know it's not my fault. I know that these things just… happen, sometimes. But I still feel responsible. I still feel a little hurt. Betrayed.” Keith listened to all this without comment or input, but when Shiro finally seemed finished talking, and Keith heard a heavy gulp come from his throat, as if swallowing back feelings, he sat up, wrapped his arms around Shiro in turn. Keith ran his hands over Shiro's scalp, petting down to his neck, and felt his shoulders relax.

“Shiro, I'm not gonna pretend I know what this feels like for you, but everything I know about you is honest and good.” Keith dipped his head low, Shiro's eyes were closed. He kissed over each of them, the lids soft and warm beneath his lips. It made him smile. “You always do your best for everyone. I can see it, hell, I can feel it. You live it in everything you do, you know? Just… radiates from you, that effort. That care.” There was still no reply, and Keith pressed a kiss to Shiro's forehead next, and another, and another. “Someone else's mistake doesn't change who you are at your core.” Those gorgeous eyes opened then, dark as night, drawing him close, and Keith almost gave in. He diverted at the last moment with a smirk, planting his lips on Shiro's scar, letting them travel to his cheekbone, trail down to linger at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got to do what you've got to do. Nothing more and nothing less. And you've done that. You do your best for someone, and sometimes-” Shiro caught him in a kiss then, heated, “You've got to-” another had Keith's head spinning, “Let them go…” 

Their noises mingled, breathy sighs and dewy kisses. Shiro seemed intent on leaving Keith senseless, but through it all Keith could hear him murmuring reverently against his lips, breathing words into his mouth, and once Keith made out, “Thank you, Keith… Thank you…” He only wanted to go deeper, to drown in all that was Shiro, and going in for a kiss, again and again, became all he could think of. It felt good.

It felt like home.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith gets into some headspace shenanigans and philosophical discussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Hump Day everyone, hope you enjoy <3

Another heatwave had rolled through the area, and Keith was beginning to loathe Lance's habit of lingering around a project site as much as possible. Sure, as long as they were there, they likely wouldn't be called to another, but was it really worth it when the sun held all the wrath of god herself and seemed intent on beating you down into submission? Keith thought not. It was one of their bigger projects, a wall hundreds of feet long with a team of ten expected to paint every square inch in just two months. Keith suspected that was why their work day hadn't been called off- despite the heat, conditions weren't extreme enough to sacrifice the work they had to get done. At least there was a bit of a breeze- of course, that also meant a slight sway to the ten feet of rolling scaffolding they were on, and while Lance strolled around the platform without a care, Keith had stayed right at the ladder, keeping a death grip on the guard rails. Good thing he did, because a moment later the entire structure rattled alarmingly, a younger artist shrieking laughter and bolting across the platform, nearly colliding with Lance.

“Hey, Summer. Be careful up here, you're gonna fall.” Leave it to Lance to not only know your name, but to be friendly even after nearly being completely and entirely decimated by your actions. “And get a helmet on!” He called after her good-naturedly. Keith tightened his grip on the rails.

It was nothing more than an immense relief when Lance finally finished up talking progress with the lead worker, and they could climb back down, sweat soaking the line of Keith's ribs and dripping down his back. He made a face as they settled into the car, his clothes sticking to him and his body slowly roasting alive in the little tincan of an oven as Lance took his time starting up the car. The air blasted out painfully hot at first, and Keith turned his head away with a grimace, peeling the long locks of hair off the back of his neck and carefully tying it up. The difference was marginal.

“Okay. This sucks. You've gotta distract me.” He rasped.

“Oh at least buy me a drink first, Mr. Kogane.”

“I'm serious. You've got a knack for taking minds off their suffering. In your own, Lance-y way.”

“Can't. Too hot. Even my brain is melting.”

“Even mine, he says.” Keith muttered playfully, before glancing back towards his partner. “What about pet play? I've got questions.”

“Shoot.”

“Do pups ever play with other pups?” Lance grinned at this.

“Ooh, you really do have your eye on me.”

“Come on. Shiro hasn't mentioned it, and I don't want to push him on anything.”

“They do,” Lance answered. “Once you've got a good grasp on your headspace is when you'll start going into it around other people. When it's easy for you to slip into it with little going on around you, Shiro will start teaching you how to interact. The sounds, the movements, what they're meant to communicate… You'll get there. If you want to.”

“So there's a standard I've got to meet.” Keith wasn't too upset about this, if anything, he was intrigued. He'd have to keep it in mind. He didn't realize he was grinning until Lance's large, goofy smile was turned back on him.

“You'd be comfortable with that? I could discuss it with Allura, and we could bring it up to Shiro… or would it be less weird to play with someone you don't know personally?”

“Slow down.” Keith managed a quiet chuckle, his face aflame. “I don't know the answer to that yet. I'll think about it, and I'll talk to Shiro. If you wanna talk about it to Allura, I'm not going to feel weird about it. Just… tell me what's discussed?”

“Of course, buddy. And don't worry. We'll be nice.”

Getting home and immediately into the shower was a bit of a struggle, with Kosmo seemingly convinced he wanted to go out into the desert heat, thick coat of fur and all. Keith begged him to wait just a few minutes, gently pushing the mutt out of the bathroom with his foot and shutting the door. His clothes still stuck to his skin, and he grimaced as he peeled them away, sighing in relief when he was finally under the water, scrubbing away layers of grime built up by sweat and dust. Outside the door, Kosmo whined and scratched, his noises dipping down into the lower, more pitiful range that sounded so much like sobbing Keith reluctantly shut off the water, soon jogging outside in fresh clothes, his hair still damp as Kosmo happily shuffled alongside of him, soon panting heavily and eventually letting his rump hit the ground, a small poof of dust lifting from the Earth as if to remind them just how hot and dry it was. And Kosmo didn't seem keen on moving. Keith tugged the harness. Nothing.

“Seriously?” He demanded, hot and out of breath again. Kosmo smiled up at him, his sides heaving as his lungs pumped what little air was available. Keith tried again. Kosmo whined. When Keith returned home for the second time that day, it was again covered in sweat and dust, exhausted, and now with dog hair covering him head to toe, on account of the eighty pound beast he'd had to sling over his shoulders and carry home. Kosmo, of course, recovered in a miraculous amount of time, begging for his treat and bouncing energetically around the house. Keith glared, his face flushed, and simply obeyed. He didn't bother getting dressed again, instead falling to his hands and knees on the mat once he was stripped down, groaning in relief to be bare. He had still been following every exercise, every instruction Shiro had given him, as closely as possible. It included the mental task of letting go of himself, something that was surprisingly difficult even when he was on his own, and the physical task of getting used to moving in his tail, deriving pleasure from the concept of pet play… these were admittedly a little easier to acclimate to. 

Of course, there was also the little problem of needing to ask for permission every time he came, which was an event that was becoming all the more frequent. Shiro never denied him, but to have to stop in the middle of what had once been his own activity to indulge in, to be interrupted and have to think of and consider Shiro's authority, to give in to it, was just another level of control he'd surrendered. Keith could feel the mental effect, the way it made him owned, not just in theory or in words but in a physical sensation, solid proof that he was no longer just a man who belonged to himself. He was a pup, and he belonged to Shiro. The thought was a nice one, and for a moment Keith wavered. It'd be so easy to abandon the simple, monotonous stretching and curling and remaining still while thoughts floated and reverberated throughout his mind until they faded away, leaving him completely numb, tucked away in his own little pocket of the universe. To give in to the primal urge nudging him towards pleasure, towards release. Keith wavered, but he didn't fall. He was owned, and that meant obedience was demanded of him.

Keith let himself fade and float, let his thoughts simplify to the most basic of needs and desires. He was hot, he wanted to cool off, he wanted Shiro, he vaguely wished he could chase the pleasure of the slight arousal in his gut that was already fading away as his thoughts and sensations rolled through his head, clouds passing by. An itch on his left leg that he ignored. The sound of Kosmo shuffling around on his bed in the next room. The roar of a plane passing overhead, the hum of the air conditioning, creaking as the house settled around him. The coolness of the mat slowly warming with his body heat, the way it stuck to his skin- not nearly as bad as his clothing had, bearable. Keith turned his head, nuzzled into the mat, before pressing his nose to the material and inhaling. It was too clean, he wished it smelled at least vaguely of Shiro, instead of simply picking up his own scent.

Keith came out of the headspace in his own time, and went about the rest of his day in a loose, happy way, his movements almost sluggish as he wiped down the mat and went about his routine. Rather than help him sleep, however, Keith found himself restless later that night. He considered texting Shiro, or calling Krolia, or even Lance, feeling more awake by the second. But it was late, and he didn't want to bother them. His eyes fell on the mat in the corner, clean and rolled up neatly, resting atop the duffle bag he often took to Shiro's. It had been mentioned that he could sleep on it, and the floor was much cooler than up on the bed, even after he'd kicked the blankets away with a discomforted little groan. But still. Sleeping on the floor like a dog, by himself? No prompting or requirement from his Sir? Was he seriously considering such a thing? Apparently, he was. Keith jumped up from his position on the bed before he could stop himself, grabbing the mat and unrolling it just beside his bed. One more moment of hesitation, and then Keith sank down, curling up and letting his mind go blank just as his exercise required. This time, however, he allowed himself to drift off, imagining he was closer to Shiro just from this simple action.

Sleeping on the mat became a regular habit that week, especially with the heat wave refusing to budge, and while Keith switched back to his bed whenever he could manage- he didn't want to ruin any bones or muscles, after all- he often curled up regardless of where he was now, and thought of Shiro to soothe his mind and his heart. The method never failed to take him straight to sleep. Revealing this bit of information to Shiro had been interesting to say the least, and had prompted several smug messages and teasing emojis. The man was relentless, and Keith finally resorted to sending pictures of increasingly cute puppies in answer until Shiro finally left him alone. Their greeting was still the same, a joyous utterance of Keith's name slipping from Shiro followed immediately by a hug that encompassed him in strong arms that squeezed tight enough to make his heart swell with happiness. Keith was beginning to suspect Shiro needed these hugs and kisses just as much as he wanted them, and he wasn't about to complain when it meant Shiro's lips against his, mirroring the way their bodies crushed together right there at the door.

“Someone might see the show,” Keith had teased a bit breathlessly once Shiro had pulled away, working to slip Keith's collar around his neck. He only hummed. 

“Good. We can charge them.”

Keith shoved playfully at his arm as they walked inside, gave Atlas a scratch behind the ears, and listened intently as Shiro led him to the playroom, explaining how the day would go as they went.

“During our last session, I asked you to engage in a new type of meditation meant to get you closer to your headspace by focusing on your body's immediate desires, and ignoring them. Today is going to be much of the same thing, with one key difference- this time, instead of ignoring what you want, you're going to act on it, as soon as you've got the thought in your head. Seek out what you want if you can't find it, without judging yourself and without trying to conform to the expectations of humanity. We want you to get to a place where you don't have a care- as a pup you've got to throw social rules to the wind, and trust your handler to keep you out of trouble and danger that your behavior may otherwise cause.” Shiro opened up the door to the playroom, and Keith followed him inside. The door shut behind the two of them. “You've learned to identify what it is you want in the moment, now you're going to do it.” He turned back to face Keith, the look in his eyes warm. Keith could have melted beneath that look. “You understand, pup?”

“Yes, Sir.” Keith answered, his spine straightening.

“Good boy. Strip, then down on your mat. Stretch and start when you're ready.”

It was routine by now- Keith figured that was the entire point of kink becoming homework, to make it easier to do as he was told even with Shiro there and watching him. Rather than embarrass him or slow him down, Keith could simply operate, let habit take over with the mere command in Shiro's voice, and go through the motions of sinking into his own head. For once, Shiro wasn't touching him, and after a moment Keith realized he was minimizing himself as much as possible, staying out of the way to deliberately avoiding being a distraction. Keith wasn't sure if he was touched or frustrated. He wanted attention. He wanted Shiro.

_So go get him._

It was such a simple concept, but the moment he grasped it, Keith was up on all fours again. He could hear Shiro shifting- he hadn't lifted his head, not wanting to ruin his neck.

“You okay, pup? Just take your time, and let go.”

He hesitated, and then crawled to Shiro, thankful for the padding on the floor as it allowed him to move quickly, almost bounding towards his master despite the distance being just a couple of quick leaps. He could hear how big Shiro's smile was when he laughed, and as Keith barreled into him he felt strong arms wrapping him up, catching him and pulling him close. Despite Shiro's strength, they both went tumbling, and his Sir ended up sitting on the floor, Keith in his lap and covering his face with nuzzles and kisses. Shiro's hands pressed to either one of cheeks, warm but only holding him, not attempting to hold him back.

“Oh, look at you-” Shiro laughed, grinning as Keith's lips found his forehead, his nose, his scar, his chin, “You're adorable. Such a good boy,” Shiro's voice dropped into the ridiculous crooning baby talk Keith had used so often with Kosmo, and instead of pulling away he pushed forward, wriggling as if forgetting he didn't yet have a tail to wag. Shiro didn't seem to mind, and so Keith let the worry go, growling playfully when Shiro rolled him over and pinned him there. He wanted up. He struggled, and after a moment, whined pitifully and tried to gnaw at Shiro's wrist. He was released, and Keith immediately pounced again. All week he had waited patiently, thinking and fantasizing and dreaming of being with Shiro, and now he was. He wasn't about to miss the opportunity to be close his Sir. Clearly. Keith's enthusiasm proved useful, as his romping eventually convinced Shiro to fall back, pulling his pup with him, and dragging him up on top of him by his upper arms. 

Shiro's hands lingered there, smoothing their way up and over Keith's lean shoulders and slipping into his hair. Nails dragging over his scalp made him moan, arching his back and biting his lip. Shiro's breathy chuckle reached him again. “Like that?” Keith whimpered and pushed into the touch, silently pleading for more, and Shiro obliged him, petting and scratching all the way down his spine, until Keith was writhing lazily against him, deeply pleased with how things were going. A thumb ran over his lips then, pushed, and Keith gladly accepted, suckling and chewing happily until Shiro gave a playful little, “Ow,” and pulled his hand away. Keith whined, pawed at him, and to indulge him instead of offering his other hand, like a gentleman would, Shiro pulled Keith into a mind-melting kiss. His whine of complaint dipped low into a pleased growl as Shiro's tongue slipped past his lips, teased and caressed and twined with his own. Keith felt him suckle then, and moaned, bucking his hips until Shiro pulled away, a wet smack of lips and a gasp signaling their parting. 

Keith pouted, his chest heaving. He was flushed bright red, his hair a mess, and hot and taut, aroused throughout each and every one of his muscles. Shiro had made him stop, and he couldn't even complain- his mind didn't seem keen on sending words to his mouth. He was a pup, that wasn't what his mouth was for. The thought was enough to prompt him to drool, a grin stretching across his face. Shiro must have seen the predatory look on his face. It took only one glance before Keith was being indulged, master and pet shuffling to rid Shiro of his belt and fly. Each of Keith's attempts to help with his hands were rejected, pushed away, and he finally dove down to grip the zipper with his teeth, his eyes darting playfully up to Shiro. He wanted his pup to refrain from using his hands? Fine by Keith.

“Good boy,” the shudder evident in Shiro's voice was heaven itself, and Keith gave a full body shake, feeling as though the sound was traveling right through his core as he nosed at Shiro's bulge, finally being allowed to use his hands to tug the fabric of his boxers aside, and Keith finally took his prize gently into his maw.

It was quick work, really.

Keith couldn't decide whether it was because Shiro was stressed out or worked up, but it hardly mattered. As soon as the worries came, they faded. There was the much more important task of tasting and suckling the heavy cock in his mouth to indulge in. He was messier now, and louder, whimpering and groaning and slurping as saliva pooled and dripped from his lips as he bobbed his head, and Keith rolled his hips as Shiro cradled the back of his head, securing him down and keeping him from running away as he let loose with a loud and broken moan, spilling right into the back of Keith's throat. He swallowed reflexively, the first bit going down without a problem, the rest choking him when he thought too deeply about it, and Keith turned his head and spat forcefully, several times, before pressing his face to the floor to rid himself of the rest of the mess coating his lips and chin. What came next surprised him, a strong grip at his hips dragging him forward, and Keith felt himself pressed solidly to Shiro's bare thigh, his jeans having been discarded while Keith had been grinding his face to the mat. Only the thin layer of his own boxers separated Keith's aroused cock from Shiro's warm, muscled thigh, and it wasn't a question what he should do.

“Good boy,” Shiro's hand began to stroke over his shoulders and back as he rutted his hips, seeking only friction, not even thinking much of his technique- Keith couldn't care less how much pleasure he derived from the practice, he just wanted his cock grinding against, inside of, flesh. It was enough. “That's it. Hump my leg like the horny dog you are.” Of course, his Sir's teasing wasn't helping. He only felt harder with every smug comment such as that one, and Keith growled long and low, not a bit surprised when Shiro merely growled back, uncaring. “You'd better be a good boy. I'd hate to have to muzzle you. Or cage you. Or give you a spanking…” All things they'd discussed before. Keith shifted, straightening his spine and wrapping his legs tighter around Shiro's thigh, beginning to grind wildly. Even if it hurt a bit. The thought of humping Shiro's leg black and blue was admittedly tempting.

He was louder when he came, too. Yelping, burying his face in Shiro's shoulder and loosing a quiet howl of pleasure as the friction reached its peak, the coil inside him snapped, and Keith spilled in his pants with a cry, feeling actual tears burn behind his eyes. Keith went boneless against his Sir then, whimpering and snuffling quietly over his skin. His mind had been deconstructed and put back together again in a completely new shape, but Shiro was there. Shiro would keep him safe. Keith was beyond grateful for that warm, familiar presence. He whined, long and low, and pressed his face to Shiro's skin once more. He was warm, he was safe, he was comfortable. He didn't move.

“Keith.”

Until that name made him jump, a piece of his mind falling back into place.

“Hey, Keith. It's me, Shiro. Can you say my name back to me?”

Shiro.

“Shiro.” Keith rasped from where he still clung to the man like a koala. Probably embarrassing. He should probably move.

“Look at me.”

It was with reluctance that Keith pulled himself away from the closeness they'd adopted, and peeled open his eyes. He blinked once, twice, and the world began to take shape around him, the rules and knowledge of it all slotting back into his mind, finally pulling him fully back into himself. Keith sat a little straighter, cleared his throat several times.

“You okay, Keith?”

“Doing good, Shiro.” He answered this time, without prompting, the names enough to center him. Still. Keith ran a hand through his hair. “That was intense.” Shiro laughed, but it was warm. Friendly.

“It usually is. But I owe you a congratulations. For achieving your pup space, and not just a head space.” Keith didn't quite manage to stifle his yawn. “Sleep right here in the room. I'll take care of the scene and come sit with you after.” He did exactly as he was told, drifting off for what felt like hours, but judging from the light coming in from the windows when he trudged back out of the playroom with Shiro, he hadn't taken more than a quick nap. Atlas greeted him with the same love and energy as Shiro, weaving between his legs as he walked and making him chuckle. He finally reached down to scratch under her chin as a goodbye when they reached the door. 

“You'll be okay to head home by yourself?” Shiro asked, as he always did. Keith smiled at him, and nodded.

“I'm perfect.”

“Text me once you're home.”

“I always do,” Keith teased, before stepping forward and standing on his toes to give Shiro a peck on the lips. Shiro wrapped him in a hug and sent him off with one more kiss, and Keith felt himself swooning the entire drive home.

The days that came after were busy enough that Keith begged Shiro to let him skip out on his exercises for a day or two, and he'd felt an immense relief, weight lifting off his shoulders, when Shiro had understood and immediately said yes. Krolia had turned up early one morning, before even Lance woke up for the day as far as Keith knew, and had dragged him out to breakfast before work. Keith was sure his haggard, exhausted appearance had made at least two children cry, but listening to Krolia tell soft stories about his dad when they'd both been alive and together was worth it. He'd slipped into the Fartmobile a little teary-eyed that day, and Lance had the good sense not to bother him. Of course, he'd had to make up for his lack of antics the next day, gushing about some new Philosophy course he was taking, and Keith still wasn't in the mood.

“Come on, the trolley problem is a perfect example of the dark nature of humanity-”

“Lance, the fact that you have to specify that you can't jump in front of the trolley to sacrifice yourself in order to save everyone else involved should speak volumes. You place these restrictions on these problems, of course people are going to choose the worse or worst option- that's all you're giving them.”

“That might be all you have,” Lance pointed out smugly, and Keith felt his jaw twitch.

“Realistically, you're more likely to panic in a high pressure situation than save anyone from the trolley.” He muttered. Lance must have sensed his mounting frustration, because he held up his hands, causing the car to swerve to the side for a moment. 

“Alright, alright. Hey,” Lance reached for his phone, and Keith gripped the door in alarm. “Check out this lizard, it's called a land mullet. Look at that glare, looks just like you-”

“Get your eyes on the road!”

He hadn't been so tired at the end of a week since before meeting Shiro, but Keith noticed a key difference, and that was the exhaustion didn't weigh heavy on his chest or tangle up the thoughts in his mind like it used to. For once, he was only tired.

It was a relief to fall into Shiro's arms at the end of the week, more so than usual, and when his hug came Keith lingered, nuzzling into Shiro's broad chest, humming softly at the warmth he found there and earning a quiet laugh from his friend.

“Doing okay?”

“Mhm.” Keith didn't pull away, and Shiro didn't push. “Long week.” Shiro then cooed and fawned over him, until even Keith was smiling and laughing again and shoving lightly at the man. His Sir seemed content then, and led him not to the playroom but to the couch.

“Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now,” Keith joked, if only to cover up the slight twinge of anxiety suddenly twisting his stomach. Shiro would have mentioned if something was wrong… right?

“Not even close.” A wink sent his way made Keith melt where he sat, not bothering to try and hide the lovestruck smile that spread across his face. He really had to do something about that. “We'll be doing our session out here today. Just gotta make sure Atlas is in her room.”

“Your cat has her own room?” Keith asked, giving Shiro a look.

“My dog has his own room too.” Shiro pointed out as he left, and Keith flushed to the tips of his ears. _Idiot._

Keith had stripped down to his boxers, rolled out his mat, and kneeled by the couch by the time Shiro returned. He'd also left his collar resting on the cushion in front of him, waiting for his Sir to do the honors.

“Very cute, pup. Such a good boy. Feel like getting your tail in?” It was such a casual way of framing the question, but Keith still found himself shivering.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Very good. On all fours for me.”

It was so easy to obey.

His boxers were peeled off and tugged around his ankles, discarded someplace Keith couldn't care about as Shiro's hands found their place all over him, caressing and petting his skin, massaging the muscles beneath, carding through his hair. After the week he'd had, it was enough to make Keith fall much faster than usual, his body relaxing and muscles going loose, and it wasn't long before he felt the press of his tail, cool with the lube that coated it, pressing at his entrance.

“This okay?” Shiro's voice was husky, low, and Keith seized his lip, nodding quickly. Very little to no prep, even for a plug, would have been a definite 'no’ not so long ago. But it was Shiro, who he trusted, and Keith had done several things that had never crossed his mind in just a short while. This was nothing.

“Please,” he whimpered, and earned a push for his efforts. It was almost alarming how quickly and easily he opened up, the stretch smooth as his tail slid into place, and Keith dropped his head with a quiet grunt, before urging his jaw to go slack and his hands to uncurl from the fists they'd formed. He swallowed, feeling his body adjust, and let loose a quiet laugh.

“Good?” Shiro was petting him again, and Keith nodded, dragged himself back to all fours from where he'd nearly bowed with the sensation.

“I'm great,” he murmured. It came out breathier than he'd wanted, but Keith let Shiro's sudden movement to the couch distract him. Shiro patted his knee, and Keith instantly rested his chin there, closing his eyes when Shiro reached out to scratch behind his ear.

“Look at you. You're so cute, you know that? I don't think I've ever met a pup so adorable as you.” Both hands scratched over his scalp now, and Keith whined. “So cute.” Shiro tugged him forward, kissed the tip of his nose, and this soon turned into kisses being peppered all over Keith's face, while he desperately tried to return each and every one. He couldn't, of course, and soon Keith growled playfully, turned his head to nip at Shiro's wrist, and that started a war, light squeezes and taps on his cheeks and nose that Keith did his best to counter with kisses and love bites, which only earned him more teasing when he succeeded. He growled, and Shiro growled right back at him, the sound breaking down into a laugh. Keith wagged his tail, the plug shifting inside him, and Shiro pressed a finger to his nose, suddenly standing again.

“Stay.” Keith kissed the digit pressed to his face, and he knew he wasn't imagining the pink coloring Shiro's face when he did. “I mean it. Be good.”

He wanted to be good. But he didn't want to be left alone. Keith whined when Shiro disappeared from the room, staying on his mat and fidgeting until his Sir returned. He had something hidden in his hand, and Keith craned his neck to see.

“Easy, pup. Are you hungry?” Keith sniffed, and smelled chocolate. He pushed forward with a quiet, eager whine, and Shiro laughed, slipping a small piece past his lips. Keith hummed, making it a point to lick Shiro's fingers entirely on accident each time he was fed, and when the treats ran out he was content to suck and chew on Shiro's fingers, testing just how tolerant his Sir would be when he bit down harder or drooled just a little more. Eventually, he grew drowsy, and began to drift off still nibbling Shiro's fingers, at which point his sir carefully withdrew his hand and wiped it clean on the couch.

“Blegh. Messy pup.” Keith wagged again. “Up.” Shiro patted his thigh, and Keith jumped up onto the couch with him without a moment's hesitation, curling up and lying his head on the man's thigh when guided into it. “Roll over for me?”

That was new. Keith obeyed anyway, and hummed when Shiro settled his palm just above his navel, starting to rub in small circles, crooking his fingers in and out. It shouldn't have felt as nice as it did, but Keith found himself drifting off, and finally, he stopped fighting the temptation of sleep.

He could tell it had been a much longer nap than the last time he'd fallen asleep at Shiro's. When Keith peeled his eyes open again, the windows were dark, and Shiro was absent. Instead, Keith found himself tucked back comfortably into some pillows, wearing sweats that were definitely too large to be on his legs and sporting a quiet ache throughout his muscles that made him suspect there'd been more indulged in than just a nap. He sat up, hissing quietly at how loose he still was, and smiled when he saw Atlas curled up beside him, bathed in moonlight and purring away. He reached out to smooth his hand over her spine, and the purring increased in volume. It was then Shiro appeared in the doorway, smiling wide when he saw Keith was awake.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Keith smirked, laid back again. “Thanks for the pillows. And getting rid of the plug.”

“Yeah,” Shiro half-turned, grinning bashfully. They'd discussed things like this, and so it was odd to see Shiro nervous about it. “You, uh… You wouldn't wake up. And you came when I got it out. So I kinda took care of myself, cleaned us both up.”

“That's okay. That's great, actually.” Keith laughed softly, smiling encouragingly when Shiro turned back, looking a little more relaxed.

“You feeling good?”

“Very.”

“Good boy,” Shiro teased, and Keith stuck his tongue out. He gazed at the moonlight coming through the windows then, and looked back to Keith. “Why don't you spend the night?” Keith's grin couldn't have been warmer.

“Yes, Sir.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith spends 24 hours with Shiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! Enjoy a special, extra-long, extra steamy chapter of Pavlovian to mark the occasion

Keith had never had a sleepover before, or really anything like it. Friends were few and far between growing up in the desert with his father, and really, he’d preferred it that way. Maybe he would have thought differently, had he grown up closer to the city, closer to people, but as it was his upbringing he’d been programmed to prefer it, even throughout grade school and up. Of course, it wasn’t like he’d thought of it, but rarely with envy towards the other kids- Keith had mostly been concerned about routine. His fears of another person’s presence- or that of several people- throwing him off his regular standards were realized when he agreed to stay the night with Shiro, who was much looser than he was any day.

Shiro’s only rule for his nightly routine seemed to be that there were no rules at all, evident in the first question- or, first several questions- he asked when Keith had risen from the couch and padded over to fall into his arms, humming contentedly when they settled right in their place around his lean frame.

“So, would you like a shower first? Or are you hungry? We could always go out to get something, but I figured I’d cook for you…” He trailed off, sounding unsure, and Keith had to pull away with a little smile on his face.

“Don’t have a lot of people over, either?”

“It’s been a while,” Shiro confirmed dryly, and Keith laughed, turning in Shiro’s arms and twining their hands together to lead him towards the kitchen.

“Come on, big guy. I’ll help you cook.”

Easier said than done. Keith had thought his own pantry was bad, but with Shiro, he seemed to have a few food staples- and a lot of boxed meals. Keith stared just long enough to let Shiro know he was judging, before elbowing him lightly.

“I don’t know how you have a body like that, feeding exclusively on this junk.” Shiro grinned cheekily.

“I get my friends to cook for me.”

“Okay,” Keith rolled his eyes, ignoring that last comment. “You have noodles, you have cheese, you have veggies. We can work with this.”

Fifteen minutes later, miraculously, the two had a decent stir fry for a meal, one Shiro had actually managed with Keith’s supervision- and he’d quickly seen the problem with Shiro’s “technique” about five minutes in, when he’d already asked thrice if they should add more heat, or oil, or less. 

“You overthink too much,” Keith slurped at his noodles obnoxiously as Shiro settled down on the couch with him again, shooting him a theatrical pout. Atlas wasn’t far behind, her large eyes fixed on the food. “Yeah you’ve gotta do things mostly right, but this isn’t baking. You can relax. Just don’t eat anything old or undercooked and you’ll probably be fine.”

“Well thank you for your expertise, sir chef,” Shiro teased, and bowed deeply to Keith, who nearly choked, shoving at him with his bare foot. 

“Don’t act so ridiculous-”

“I’ll definitely keep the advice in mind.”

Shiro was the one to take the bowls and cutlery when they finished, and Keith laid back, stroking Atlas’ gorgeous fur as he listened to the brief sound of water running and quiet humming of a song he didn’t recognize. A pause in the ambience came, and Keith strained his ears, hearing some sort of fabric shuffling. When Shiro appeared again, he was shirtless, and Keith’s eyes widened a bit, taking the time to rake down his muscled form.

“Care for a shower?” Shiro asked lowly, and Keith had to process for a moment as his brain caught up with the situation.

“With you?”

“If you’re comfortable.” Shiro looked less alluring now, more concerned, and Keith realized that had been on purpose. He stood smoothly to avoid upsetting Atlas.

“Completely.”

They were halfway to the bathroom before Keith realized- as much as Shiro loved to strip him out of his clothes and look at- and touch- his own body, he’d never voluntarily showed off most of his own. Not all at once, anyway. Keith went rigid as he marched obediently after Shiro. This was big, wasn’t it? Had he been too casual? But Shiro seemed calm and relaxed, even happy, and so Keith simply went along with it, following his lead, like always. And like always, Keith was the one to strip first, was already shucking off his clothes as Shiro leaned over to start the water, showing off a very nice view of his ass through the jeans he was still wearing. From here, Keith could see a number of fantasies flitting through his mind, the least concerning of which was the desire to pinch or even bite the muscle underneath the denim. Shiro straightened and turned then, and Keith’s eyes flew back to his.

“You like it hot, right?”

Keith’s brain fizzled.

“I… Uh... “

“The water?” Shiro raised his eyebrows, the picture of innocence. “You take really hot showers, you told me.”

“Oh. Right,” Keith muttered quickly, bending to rid himself of his pants to hide the blush spreading down his neck and over his chest. He definitely didn’t resort to the same underhanded techniques as Shiro. Probably a good thing- it would’ve been a waste. Once Keith was undressed and turned around again, he was just in time to see Shiro stripping off his boxer briefs, leaving himself completely bare as steam began to creep along the floor and rise just as it met his feet, making the scene look even more misty and ethereal. It just wasn’t fair. Luckily, he wasn’t enough of a mess himself to miss the matching rosy color on Shiro’s face, and Keith gave him a calm smile as he breezed past, stepping into the shower and past the curtain with only a look.

He slipped under the stream almost immediately, letting it scald his neck and shoulders and hissing in satisfaction. Keith shifted a bit, getting used to the temperature, before letting the water run down his back, and then stepping even further to let it beat over his scalp, the cooler spray tickling his face. It was then the sound of the curtain drawing back had him smoothing his palms over his eyes and opening them, and there was Shiro, gloriously bare and looking like he’d just won the lottery. Maybe they both had. Keith couldn’t exactly fend off the thought that he likely looked like a drowned rat already, but Shiro’s gaze made it easier to ignore. Keith allowed himself a smirk.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Shiro didn’t seem inclined to speak or move much after that, and Keith rolled his eyes.

“Come on, come closer. I’ll wash your hair for you.”

“And my back?” Shiro winked as he turned.

“If you behave,” Keith answered just as easily, before grabbing a bottle from the side of the tub and squeezing a generous amount of the contents into his hand. Their toying and teasing mood faded just as quickly as it had come when Keith set his fingers to work on Shiro’s scalp, and he could see the tension lift even from behind the man as he let out a happy noise. Keith continued massaging his way to Shiro’s hairline, and back down to his nape, working up a fine lather before he grabbed the showerhead, and carefully began to rinse as he guided Shiro’s head this way and that.

“Monster,” Shiro muttered sleepily. Keith, more than a little amused, tried to peer around him.

“What?”

“How could you move the showerhead from its place?” Keith scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“How do you rinse without moving it?”

“Twist and turn, just like you’re doing to me now. You’ve got to do it anyway.”

“I see,” Keith said, sympathetic, before finishing up with Shiro’s hair and soon moving on to his back with only a slight pause and a gulp beforehand. “Shiro…” Keith laughed. “You’re seriously ripped…”

“Like it?” Of all things, the question sounded unsure.

“Yeah,” was all Keith could manage in response, a barely-there breath, before he grabbed the soap and began to work it into Shiro’s neck, gradually moving down, squeezing and scratching over the skin and muscle until he heard mewling. He stopped, checked on Shiro again.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, feels good.”

Keith grinned, and kept working his way down, over the sharp planes of Shiro’s shoulder blades, down the bumps of his spine, to the vee of his lower back and-

“Can I…?”

“Feel free.” Shiro’s voice was thick when he answered, but Keith’s shyness had seemingly evaporated. It was easier without eyes on him. He scrubbed rather enthusiastically at Shiro’s ass, biting his lip and groping occasionally, the soap making things rather slippery. Finally, Shiro cleared his throat, and with a quiet huff Keith moved on, grabbing the showerhead again and rinsing Shiro down. The content sigh he let slip was heaven in itself.

“Better?” Keith dared to ask softly, and all he got was a hum in response. The fact that he had reduced Shiro down to wordless noises was enough. “Good.” It was a matter of minutes before they’d both scrubbed the rest of themselves down, neither their flirtation or situation acknowledged again though there were plenty more sideways glances and eyes raking up and down each other’s bodies. Once out and in matching, fluffy white towels, the two brushed their teeth side by side while Shiro made absolutely ridiculous faces in the mirror.

“Need me to help you with this too?” Keith asked cheekily, and Shiro flicked water at him.

Once downstairs again, Shiro fed Atlas a high quality blend of wet cat food that looked like a million different things Keith didn’t want to think about- he’d already called his mother earlier to go check on Kosmo in the night, and when Shiro was finished he turned to head towards the bedroom- but his companion didn’t follow, and instead started tearing apart the living room, stripping down the couch cushions and dragging every blanket he could find from the nooks and crannies of his home. He began building a big pile of soft things as Keith looked on, bewildered.

“What are you doing?”

Shiro grinned at him.

“Pillow fort?”

“Are you serious.”

“It’s sleepover tradition! Come on, you can’t _not_ join me.”

“You cannot sleep on the floor.”

“That’s why we have a foundation,” Shiro was ignoring him, stacking pillows and cushions as he spoke, “But these walls are gonna crumble without your help.”

Keith rolled his eyes, but joined anyway. He’d never done anything like this before, and it became apparent that neither had Shiro when they ended up with more of a cave than a fort, with much of the blankets overhead held up by flimsy cushion walls and taking advantage of much of the furniture in the room.

“That’s cheating.” Keith had said, as he crawled in. Shiro had pouted back at him.

“We can always just be burritos for the night.” As ridiculous and gaudy as it looked, the fort-cave was much more romantic, and Keith quickly shook his head and flopped down comfortably amongst all the softness. Shiro held up his finger then, and after scrambling carefully back out of the fort he returned with snacks- popcorn, pretzels, chips, and candy the likes of which nearly made Keith’s eyes bug out of his head.

“You are actually a child.”

“I don’t hear you complaining,” Shiro answered easily, and aimed a piece of popcorn for Keith. He tossed, and Keith caught the morsel delicately in his mouth, showing off before finishing it with a crunch. Shiro raised his eyebrows. “Impressive.” Keith shrugged.

“Not really.”

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Aw, come on.” Keith grabbed a piece of popcorn, and drew his hand back. “Try it.” Shiro opened his mouth wide, and with a precision aim pelted Shiro right in the forehead.

“Hey! You did that on purpose.”

“I did not!”

Shiro, in turn, began to fire off the rounds of popcorn, and Keith, after a futile resistance tossing the pretzels, finally took cover behind one of the many pillows, giggling madly- though he’d never admit to making such sounds later on, no way.

“Okay, okay! Mercy, I’m sorry!” The onslaught ended with a laugh.

“Alright.” Shiro looked sly when he carefully lowered the pillow, and Keith glared at him. “Since you’re the loser of this battle, you’ve got to tell me a secret.”

“Whaaaat,” Keith groaned, flopping over.

“Come on, anything you want.”

“None of my secrets are good secrets.”

“Mmmm,” Shiro said thoughtfully, making a spectacle of arching his eyebrow and rubbing his chin. “Then give me a kiss, and we’ll call it even.” Keith smirked.

“Better deal.”

Shiro gave him a smug look, and when Keith stuck his tongue out, he ducked forward to capture it playfully between his lips. Keith drew back with a playfully disgusted noise, only returning when Shiro snickered softly and slipped a palm along his jaw, carefully drawing him in for a real kiss, slow and warm and lazy. It went on so long, the two of them only parting for seconds of air between kisses, that when Shiro finally released him Keith felt dizzy and vaguely wondered how much time had passed.

He didn’t want to break the silence, however, when he saw Shiro’s steel gray eyes staring back at him through the darkness the way they were, impossibly close and large and soft. They stayed that way for a while longer, just taking each other in, a hand occasionally coming up to brush a strand of hair or stroke adoringly along soft skin. It was Shiro who finally disturbed the silence, and with a yawn of all things. He cursed quietly, and Keith laughed.

“How about some Netflix while we fall asleep?” He asked, already shifting onto all fours and crawling out of the fort. He was back with Shiro’s laptop before the man could protest, and when Shiro mumbled a sleepy affirmative, Keith began to surf through the admittedly slim pickings until he found a baking show that looked relatively promising. Shiro was out before he could get it started, and Keith found himself watching the slumbering form of his friend much more than the entertainment he’d put on. Atlas soon joined them, plastering herself against Shiro’s side and purring, and it completed the picture. Calm and soothing. Keith reached out to smooth over first Atlas’ back, and then Shiro’s. The gesture was enough to assure him that all this was real, and that he was safe, and maybe even loved. He fell asleep on that thought, bathed in warmth and plush material and the sound of Shiro’s gentle breathing.

The world upon waking was muddled and confusing- he felt warm and heavy despite having fallen asleep uncovered and on the floor, and Keith didn’t want to get up for anything, much less to face another day. More details of his situation were revealed when he tried to move for the first time, and found his torso wouldn’t follow his limbs- something was weighing him down. Keith peeled open his eyes to blink blearily, the picture blurring at first, before settling into the more recognizable shapes of strong arms around his waist and a cat perched on top of his hips, purring away.

“God, you’re both one in the same, aren’t you?” He croaked to Atlas, who gave him a halfhearted blink and a chirp. Keith grumbled in response, and carefully shifted around in Shiro’s arms to face him. Dead asleep. “Who knew you’d be such a heavy sleeper?” He murmured, reaching out to push Shiro’s bangs delicately off and back from his forehead. He wouldn’t trade this for the world- except it was getting a little hot. Keith endured, suffered in silence until Shiro began to stir, and that started his morning routine, which was even more chaotic than the night before. In short, there was no routine, and as Keith attempted to help the sudden whirlwind Shiro became upon waking up, tossing pillows and cushions anywhere they were out of the way, his head spun when Shiro turned to him with a grin.

“Wanna go out for breakfast? We can stop by your place and pick up Kosmo; there’s a little bistro nearby with outdoor seating. We’d be able to bring him.” How anyone could immediately wake up and tackle the day with a list of spontaneous plans was lost on Keith, but he agreed regardless- he did enjoy spending time with Shiro, and since their first few meetings had seen little of his daily life and how he operated. As wild and unpredictable as he could be, Keith wanted to see all of him. And he’d be lying if he said a part of him didn’t find this fun.

The lack of coffee thus far led Keith to doze on the drive over to his little desert shack, but Shiro didn’t seem to mind as he spoke softly, often pointing out parks and other establishments they passed and giving trivia on them or telling stories about his own experiences there. At one point, Keith had shot him a drowsy smile and had commented that Shiro really got around. He’d responded with a short laugh and a pink flush to his face, but that had been the end of the teasing.

Kosmo had been ecstatic to see him, and the force of eighty pounds lovingly colliding with his thin frame was enough to wake him up a little as Keith leashed Kosmo and went on a quick jog around the house to get some of his excess energy out, before grabbing a bowl and his food, and meeting Shiro back at his car. He’d never once mentioned whether or not it would be okay to have a large and slobbery beast shedding all over the car’s interior, and so Keith thought nothing of it when Kosmo, his tail waving happily, hopped up in the backseat and sat alarmingly still and obedient throughout the car ride.

He did pant heavily and whine when they parked at the bistro, and Keith took a seat outside just as the weak morning sunlight began to warm up the surface world. Luckily it hadn’t reached baking temperatures just yet, and he fed Kosmo as Shiro ordered coffee and bagels. The first drink was like an elixir, warming him from the inside out and reviving Keith’s tired bones, and he smiled for the first time that day.

“Hey look, the sun’s out,” was Shiro’s remark, and Keith had pelted him with his discarded straw wrapper. Once breakfast was finished, their morning consisted of boring errands run, though of course it was infinitely less so with Shiro and Kosmo along for the trip. Keith had the privilege of hearing Shiro singing along at the top of his lungs to the month’s hit pop songs, pitching his voice up until he got Kosmo to howl along. It was during one of these singing sessions that Shiro turned to Keith with a grin again, and Keith knew he was going to hear a sudden and random suggestion again before Shiro had even spoken.

“How about another double date? With Allura and Lance, of course.”

“You don’t think they’ll mind?” He didn’t detest the sound of it, actually Keith almost enjoyed the thought.

“Of course not.”

A short phone call later and the four of them were at lunch, at yet another little restaurant that miraculously allowed giant dogs on the premises. Keith watched Lance and Allura coo over Kosmo together as Shiro ordered for the table, and unfortunately picked up more of their dialogue than he cared to hear.

“He’s cute, huh?” Lance was grinning from ear to ear, completely oblivious to the sultry look in Allura’s eyes as she gazed at him rather than Kosmo.

“He is not the only one.”

“Oh?” Lance turned, and Keith did his best not to curl his lip as they made the most disgusting heart eyes at each other. “Care to elaborate on that, Princess?” She hummed, and curled her long, slim fingers in the chain around his neck with a soft clink.

“I believe you know exactly what I mean, bad boy…”

Keith averted his eyes uncomfortably. Shiro seemed cheerful and unaware of the whole exchange, and those following the first. Granted, he didn’t make it all out- Keith actually tried very hard to focus on Shiro, how he looked, how he sounded, how he moved- yet the quiet mumble of Lance and Allura’s flirting broke through all. At the very least they all had something to focus on when lunch arrived. Keith scarfed down his own food as politely as he could manage, but they weren’t even halfway through their meal before Allura suggested they all extend the date, and go to a movie. Shiro turned to smile at Keith, and he just couldn’t say no.

After a quick ride to Krolia’s- she was closer than the desert shack, after all- to drop Kosmo off, the two of them met Allura and Lance yet again at the theatre. The crowd was thick, and luckily Shiro didn’t seem to mind when Keith pressed close to avoid the contact with strangers. They ended up with some sort of action thriller with plenty of blood and guts, and for a quick moment Keith sat forward excitedly, grinning at the choice of entertainment. He wasn’t sure what he’d see when he looked over at Lance- hopefully the face of fear- but glancing over proved to be a mistake.

Allura’s left hand was wrapped in a generous loop of the chain around Lance’s neck, drawing it tight, while the right splayed across his cheek, both holding him steady as she practically swallowed his face. Lance didn’t seem too troubled by this fact, his eyes closed peacefully and his lips parted wide against Allura’s, their tongues flicking and rolling against one another slow and languid. Keith immediately burned bright with embarrassment and something else he refused to acknowledge, immediately fixing his eyes firmly back on the big screen and refusing to glance anywhere else. He tried his best to convince himself the quiet hums and moans coming from the side were actually noises from the movie. If only. He spent the rest of his time shifting in his seat, not squirming, he told himself, and breathed a sigh of relief when the lights finally came up and his companions all acted as though nothing had happened.

Well and fully drained now, Keith leaned heavily on Shiro again as they all shuffled back out to the front, and though he appreciated the heavy arm around his shoulders, grounding him and keeping him upright, Keith had to bite back a cringe when Lance suggested brightly that they head to the mall next. Allura lit up brightly- Keith was beginning to understand how two people like Lance and Allura had ended up together.

“Oh, yes! Let’s buy something sparkly.”

“You two go on ahead.” Shiro’s words surprised Keith, and he felt the arm tighten around him. “I’ve got some cleaning back at home to do.” Keith couldn’t help it, his jaw dropped. He knew. Somehow, Shiro knew just when he’d reached his limits. He gazed up at the man in awe, and earned a brief smile and a wink. Relief, and warmth, coursed their way through Keith’s tired limbs.

“Oh.” Lance gave Keith a knowing smirk then, and he glared back. “Sure, Shiro. Keith.” His smug tone was really starting to grind on Keith. “You two have fun.”

Ass.

Still, Keith waited until he was seated back in Shiro’s car to heave a sigh and sink back, raising his arms to press his palms to his eyes.

“Thank you,” he breathed roughly to Shiro, who laughed nervously.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I did have fun.”

“Oh yeah? Even with Allura and Lance-”

“You saw them too!?” Keith whirled in his seat, earning a more genuine laugh.

“Keith, I’ve been friends with them for years. I worked with them, sexually.” Keith blushed. Oh, yeah. “I know what they’re like.” Shiro glanced over at him again. “I hope they didn’t make you too uncomfortable. They’ve… both worked hard to become that comfortable and confident with each other. With their affection.” Keith paused at that, and sighed.

“No. I get that.”

“I thought you would,” it could have come off as accusatory, but Shiro’s voice was soft, and full of pride and something else Keith couldn’t quite name. He’d seen the scars lining Shiro’s body. Did he struggle with the same feelings? Did they all? Luckily, Keith was pulled from his depressing spiral of thoughts by the odd route they were taking.

“You’re going back to my mom’s?”

“We’ve gotta get Kosmo, don’t we?”

“She can bring him over, I’d hate to… Inconvenience you.” Of course, he’d already spent the night, but Keith tried not to let that count.

“You’re both coming back with me.” Shiro gave a sort of flinch then. “I mean, if you want to.”

“You’re not going to mind all the dog hair? Because if you haven’t noticed,” Keith murmured, glancing around the seats. “He sheds. A lot.”

“So does Atlas.”

“Yeah, but she matches most of your interior.” Shiro laughed again.

“Keith, just relax. I’d be happy to have the two of you over.” And so it was decided. Kosmo was ecstatically happy to see Keith again, and seemingly more so to see Shiro, who loved on him and cooed over him while Keith stared over the man’s massive shoulder at his dog, unsure who he was more jealous of. To soothe the pain, he caught Kosmo’s eye and mouthed “traitor,” which must have been the magic word, because the mutt immediately dashed past Shiro and leapt into Keith’s arms, nearly bowling him over.

Krolia had followed Kosmo out in a moment, blatantly looking Shiro up and down and then smiling wide. Keith felt his stomach drop.

“Mom-”

“You must be Shiro!” Traitor. Keith again watched as they exchanged pleasantries, shaking hands and making small talk, while Krolia continuously caught his eye and gave him knowing looks. Keith pretended Kosmo needed his undivided attention until the painful experience was over. It wasn’t until they all arrived back at Shiro’s place that Keith relaxed fully, sinking down onto the couch that had now become as familiar as his own, keeping an eye on Kosmo as he playfully made advance after advance towards Atlas, who perched just out of his reach regarding him calmly. Shiro had disappeared into the kitchen, before returning with cleaning supplies and gloves. Keith sat up.

“Were you serious about cleaning?”

“Well, yeah. But don’t worry about-” Keith was already standing, “-it.” Shiro smiled. “Stubborn.”

“Oh look, you’re learning,” Keith replied slyly, and grabbed a cloth from Shiro’s hands with a smile of his own. “Come on, it’ll go twice as fast with two people working.” That was an understatement. Every square inch of Shiro’s home was already spotless, and it took much less time to dust and scrub every inch of the place than he expected, even including the play room. Keith wasn’t sure exactly how much time it typically took to clean the place, but he knew if he tried to do the same for his own home, it would definitely take him much longer than the meager hour it took them. Kosmo and Atlas both miraculously stayed where they were, and the reward of flopping onto the couch again, in sync with Shiro this time, was more than worth it. They’d settled tantalizingly close to each other, close enough that if either turned their head just so, they’d nearly be kissing. It was tempting, but as Shiro didn’t move, Keith didn’t either, following his lead.

“Ready to wind down now?” Keith teased, to the sound of Shiro’s hum.

“Got a few messages to answer. But you can turn on the tv, I’ll be right with you.” Keith stuck his tongue out, but followed the advice. After a few minutes of flipping fruitlessly through the channels, Kosmo and Atlas chasing each other in the background, Keith groaned and flopped back in defeat.

“There’s nothing on.”

“Usually the case.”

“This is why no one should own a tv.”

“All done,” Shiro straightened up, and Keith raised his eyebrows.

“Just like that?”

“Yep.” Shiro shut his laptop and set it aside. “You’ve got my full attention now.” Keith blushed.

“Not funny.” Shiro laughed anyway. “Hey, Kosmo!” An ominous rumbling of heavy pawsteps headed their way, and they were set upon by the beast moments later, Keith doing his best to shield himself from the onslaught of hair and drool while Shiro simply embraced it, wrestling with Kosmo and laughing softly. This continued until the late evening, when both Shiro and Kosmo finally seemed to have burned off their excess energy, and the three piled on top of each other, Keith in Shiro’s lap and Kosmo in his. Atlas observed aloofly, watching over the three of them. Shiro’s hands played idly with Keith’s hair, and he was starting to have trouble staying awake.

“Hey,” he mumbled, “We should… Should make dinner. And I should get going.” He didn’t move. “I don’t wanna overstay my welcome…”

“Nonsense.” Shiro carefully disentangled himself from the pile. “Stay here. I’ll cook.”

Keith didn’t argue, and after dinner as Shiro was washing up, Keith tried to talk himself into standing, excusing himself, and walking out the door. His plans never really had the chance to form completely before Shiro was back again, standing in the doorway and fidgeting. Keith was instantly more alert.

“Is something up?”

“Ah… yeah.” His heart sank. “But it’s- a good thing,” Shiro added quickly, “At least, uh… I think it is. I just don’t want you to think…” He trailed off, and after waiting a moment, Keith stood carefully and made his way over, placing his hand on Shiro’s arm.

“Hey, come on. What is it? You can tell me anything.” Shiro turned to look at him then, and Keith stood straighter under the sudden determination in his eyes.

“Come to my room.”

That was less of a confession and more of a request, and Keith could sense it was a big one. His tour upon first meeting Shiro and arriving hadn’t included the bedroom, and he remembered Shiro’s insistence they sleep in a pillow fort rather than in a bed the night before. Keith glanced over at Kosmo, who was curled up content and happy on the couch, with Atlas perched delicately above him. He took a deep breath and when he turned back to Shiro, nodded.

He didn’t remember much of being led there, just that Shiro seemed nervous as they paced down the long hallway leading into the back of the house, and this time, Keith was the one to grab his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith saw Shiro look at him, and he remained strong, staring straight ahead and only tightening his grip. In a moment, he felt a squeeze back, and they reached the door.

The state of the room contrasted with the rest of the place, messy, with clothing scattered about the floor and wrappers lining the bedside table and drawers. Looking around, Keith could see photos hanging on the wall, one of a much younger looking Shiro grinning wide at the camera, another of him with his arm around a much sunnier looking man who smiled away, oblivious while Shiro gazed at him with a loving expression. The bed was made neatly, and Shiro came to a stop in front of it before turning around, his smile not quite meeting his eyes when he spread his arms.

“Well… this is it. This is me.”

The last room of the house Keith had yet to see, and yet it had also been the most revealing of all. Shiro’s core, his last safe and secure, secret place even within his own home. His heart, even. And he still looked terrified to be sharing it. Keith swallowed hard, and approached Shiro, shutting the door quietly as if to offer them a moment of privacy, and brought his hands to the man’s face. Shiro looked at him, and for a moment neither of them seemed to know what to say. Then,

“I think I owe you that secret now,” Keith said softly. Shiro’s chuckle was barely there.

“You’ve got one you want to tell me?” Keith nodded, swallowing hard.

“I… actually always wanted to be a fireman, not… You know, this.” Shiro tilted his head. “My dad… he died saving people, when I was very young…” He had to pause. “All I ever wanted was to make him proud…” Keith bowed his head then, the tears had begun to flow, and just as he let go of Shiro in shame, the man’s large hands, one warm, soothing skin and the other cool plastic and silicone, came to rest on his cheeks, carefully bringing his face back up and wiping away his tears.

“Keith,” there was so much love and patience in that tone of voice, he almost had to shy away. Living in the darkness for so long had made any light he received painful, and Shiro’s sun was blinding, “Your dad would be so proud of everything you are, everything you have been, and everything you will be.” Keith hated himself for sniffling, for burying his face in Shiro’s shoulder and giving in to the sobs that wanted to wrack his body, if only for a minute. Sixty seconds of letting himself feel everything- he wanted to despise himself even for that, but with Shiro holding him close, and whispering to him that it was okay, Keith just couldn’t manage the typical self-loathing that came with his despair. When he calmed down, Shiro’s thumbs passed over his cheeks again. “Keith, I’m glad you told me.” There was a pause, during which he could only smile up at Shiro, before something changed, and they were crashing into each other.

The kiss was desperate, possibly more so than any contact between them had ever been, and both were panting, clawing at clothing, as Shiro gripped tightly at Keith’s jacket, yanked him as close as their atoms would allow and pushing their kiss even further. Keith retaliated with a growl and a parting of lips, resorting to a desperate moan when Shiro’s tongue expertly flicked around the corners of his mouth, dragging slowly over every spot that sent tingles to the base of his skull and weakened his knees just a fraction with each pass. Keith finally snarled again and raked his nails down along Shiro’s chest in a desperate attempt to win back the upper hand, and that made him pull away, a miracle as much as it was torture. Keith pursued, and with a smack of lips, they were kissing again.

“Is this-” He gasped, just before his breath was stolen yet again- “I mean is this okay?” Keith said in a rush, and his head spun as Shiro nosed at his jaw, suckled none too gently at the spot. “God- I mean, I know this isn’t a… training session, or play, but… Holy shit, am I allowed to beg you not to stop?” Keith asked thickly, and shifted his hips up against Shiro’s thigh, gripping at broad shoulders to steady himself. It was so hard, acknowledging that this might be something they may not want to rush into, but it was less so when Shiro hummed in agreement, pulled away, and Keith had a little more clarity to his mind.

“Are you comfortable?” Shiro was asking, his hands still smoothing down Keith’s front- inside the jacket, over the shirt- and when he nodded, “Keith- I’m sorry to ask it, but if we do this, you have to promise me not to use it against me, not to have any hard feelings, not to… to…” Shiro shook his head and, remembering the recent troubles he’d mentioned going through with one of his other pups, Keith quickly narrowed his eyes and cupped Shiro’s jaw.

“Hey. I wouldn’t. I’d never behave like that; there aren’t going to be any hard feelings. Whatever happens.” Shiro smiled then, and while Keith had known he was speaking the truth, the relief and happiness radiating from Shiro now solidified it- this was okay. They both wanted this, and they were going to have it- “Oh, fuck,” Keith’s voice was thick as Shiro’s mouth, hot and wet, returned to his jaw, traveled its way down his neck. Shiro stopped at the base, began to add teeth to the mix, and it was an effort yet again to remain upright when Shiro bit down slowly, before kissing the spot better, his tongue working in lazy circles over the bruise. “Just there- just like that, Shiro....”

Of course, he hit fabric then, and with a frustrated noise of his own Shiro pushed Keith’s jacket off his shoulders and pushed him back, steadying him when he stumbled into a wall, and easily pinning him there as he helped rid Keith of his shirt, adding that to the pile on the floor. Keith laughed and looped his arms around Shiro’s neck, tilting his head with a hum as that mouth found his skin again.

“Going to lose them, with all the stuff everywhere,” he teased, and hissed playfully when Shiro shoved him lightly back into the wall again.

“Are you getting smart with me?”

“Mm, maybe.” He whined when Shiro pulled away then, almost an apology. 

“Strip down, Keith.” The voice was commanding, but used his name, and a shiver passed through him. “And get on the bed. All fours.” It was a confusing, exhilarating blend of commands made for his headspace addressed to him, and Keith followed orders quickly, his eyes dark and locked on Shiro’s as he unbuckled his belt, shoved his jeans and boxers down to his ankles and stepped boldly out of them. Shiro’s gaze raked up and down his lean, muscled form, and the clear desire there gave Keith the confidence to strut past Shiro, before falling forward onto the bed, dropping down to his elbows with a hum to nuzzle into the sheets. A palm smoothing over his shoulders and down his spine served as Shiro’s greeting, and Keith arched up into it, without taking his face away from the bed.

“Smells like you,” he murmured, and moaned when Shiro squeezed at the base of his neck, began to knead away the tension there.

“You poor thing. Did I put you through too much today, Keith?”

“No, Shiro.” He answered honestly, and heard the sound of a drawer sliding open, and shut again. “Actually… I had a lot of fun, just spending time with you.”

“Good. I really am glad you enjoyed yourself. But it wouldn’t hurt to help you reach a release now, right?” He hissed, Shiro’s finger covered with cold lube and prodding at his entrance making Keith grab fistfuls of the blankets. He shook his head.

“Doesn’t hurt at all.”

“Good.” He shivered, hearing a dark grin in that tone, and in the next moment Keith’s jaw went slack and a loud croon left his throat as Shiro pushed in. Shiro didn’t take much time to prepare him, but he was gentle, and Keith focused on breathing through it, relaxing, and answering quietly whenever Shiro checked in with him, his heart swelling with the excitement of what they were doing. Really, excitement was an understatement.

“Shiro-” Keith’s voice shuddered through the name, and he groaned as the fingers inside him curled and twisted. “I’m good. I’m okay, please, I just want you…” Another push, and he stiffened, his teeth grit and lip curling.

“What is it you want, Keith?”

“You. Inside me, now.” He gasped as his words were met with a tight grip around his hips and a yank, dragging him back down the bed. Keith bit his lip to hold back a laugh, and peered over his shoulder. Shiro was already stripped down, as bare and vulnerable as he was, and peering over Keith as he rolled on a condom. The lube was grabbed, popped open again, and when Shiro caught his eye, Keith was graced with a smile. He grew hot just under his skin, and dropped his head back to a comfortable level to prevent the strain in his neck from returning. It wasn’t long before Shiro was grabbing him again, lining him up, and sinking into him.

The moan that slipped from Keith’s mouth was filthy, pornographic even to his own ears, and he whimpered, biting down on his own fingers to keep himself quiet as Shiro comforted him, soothed him with a hand circling his lower back until Keith nodded, and whispered to move. Shiro was big, and each drag of his cock along Keith’s inner walls, slow as the pace was, had Keith trembling, his brow furrowed in concentration, trying to relax, trying not to unravel so soon.

“Keith?” Shiro sounded as though he was breaking, too.

“I'm good,” he rasped, dropping his forehead to the sheets and arching his back further. Shiro sank deeper, and Keith muffled his cry in the bed, raising his hand over his shoulder. “Shiro…” he sobbed softly, and a hand curled tightly in his not a second later.

“Breathe, baby.”

His thrusts were powerful, but Shiro still fucked Keith slow and gentle, holding his hand while he jolted forward with each snap of his hips. Keith's cock, already flushed and weeping, bobbed with each movement the two made together, and it was like this, locked together and joined at their hands, that Keith fell apart with muffled moans and cries and muscles drawing tight, starting with his abdomen, ending with his fingers and toes which curled, his spine arching until it nearly bent. Keith sobbed Shiro’s name, tears forming around the corners of his eyes for the second time that night as he made a mess all over Shiro’s sheets. Keith’s body betrayed him then, his muscles going loose and causing him to crash into the bed, Shiro coming to a stop inside him. Not that he minded.

Keith could hardly make sense of what was going on around him, feeling impossibly full, an intense buzz just under his skin, heat flooding his veins until the sweat tickling over his neck and back began to cool him. Keith was still panting heavily when Shiro carefully pulled out, earning a whine from him and squeezing his hand. Keith held on for dear life. Without Shiro, he felt horribly empty, but he was distracted from the thought when a moan of his name dropped from Shiro’s lips, just before his ass was painted in the man’s release, and Keith closed his eyes again with a softer noise, only opening his eyes again when Shiro gently rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Keith,” his voice broke, he sounded as wrecked as Keith felt, and that fact was oddly satisfying. Keith hummed back. “Are you okay?”

“Never better,” he mumbled into the sheets. “How about you?” Shiro managed a laugh.

“I’m feeling really great, Keith. I-” Keith didn’t bother pushing it when Shiro didn’t finish his sentence, and instead let out what was nearly a purr as Shiro began to rub his back, “...You’re amazing.” It was so soft, Keith wondered if he had even meant to hear, but it didn’t stop the words from going straight to his head and intensifying his bliss as he lay there, soon feeling the bed dip as Shiro joined him. The familiar feeling of a cloth cleaning him off soon followed, and Keith dozed in Shiro’s arms for what could have been hours or years before he finally came to. The sight of Shiro’s soft eyes and a smile to match was the first thing the saw.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Keith croaked, and Shiro hummed.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good. Really good.” _More than good, about everything._

“I’m glad.” Shiro smoothed Keith’s hair back away from his forehead, and he offered an apologetic smile in return.

“I’ve gotta get home. Work tomorrow…”

“I’ll take you, soon as you’re ready.” Keith sighed and closed his eyes.

“You’re actually the best.”

Shiro had responded by teasingly pointing out Keith was just a little biased, and their banter turned to a lazy attempt at a fight- one that Keith lost swiftly when Shiro merely pinned him to the bed and peppered him with kisses. They’d dressed and left with Kosmo, still chatting and laughing quietly, and the drive home was made unearthly by the lack of other cars on the road, the lights speeding by, and the moon shining down on their path. That night, Keith lay awake despite his busy day, near giddy with the thought- he’d just made love to Shiro. More than that, did he… love Shiro? The smile that refused to leave his face said it all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith returns to his daily routine completely smitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So life happened, and it's going to sound so ridiculous and mushy but everyone's comments really did motivate me to come back to this series even after straying for so long - Thanks for sticking around, and I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

“I mean it, Lance… There’s just something about him that’s different.” 

It wasn’t quite the day after- but Keith was aware he hadn’t stopped talking about his day, and subsequent night, with Shiro since he’d returned to his daily life. Lance, to his credit, hadn’t interrupted him yet, had only gazed at him with a knowing smile on his face, which Keith had chosen to ignore. They were sitting in the Artmobile, stationary, at one of the sites where they were waiting on a status report the project manager had supposedly written up the night before. As far as Keith was concerned, it was a mercy he had so much to say for once. They weren’t sitting in silence at the very least, and Lance could get a taste of his own medicine.

“I know what’s between us is just an arrangement,” Keith went on, and caught Lance’s obnoxious eyebrow raise from the corner of his eye, “But he treats me like- like a _person_ ,” Keith laughed. “Like this isn’t just some sex thing. Like he cares.”

“Of course he cares, Keith, that’s what makes him so good.”

“I guess I’m just…” Keith shook his head, leaned back against the seat. He stared up at the ceiling. The fabric covering the frame of the van was old, had maybe been gray once. Someone had managed to stain it with coffee- or worse- and the edges were fraying, delicate threads unraveling one by one and sprouting in every direction. “...I’m not used to sex being something that makes me feel good. God, that sounds awful.” He bent forward again, ran his hands over his hair to smooth it back. Lance was silent for a moment, before daring to speak.

“And, now? You’re feeling really g-”

“Amazing,” Keith breathed, and shot a glare at Lance when he laughed. “What’s so damn funny?”

“Oh, Keith. You are in love.”

“I am not!”

“You’ve got it bad for him. I told you-”

“Stop right there. You didn’t tell me _shit_ -”

“I did!” Lance pointed an accusing finger at him, but there was a wide, Joker-like grin on his face. “I absolutely did. All the times I’ve gushed about Allura, every time I got a little too _unf_ talking about her-”

“Unf.” Keith repeated flatly.

“Shut it. Every time I did that, you’d stop me and,” he switched into a lower, rougher tone of voice then that Keith supposed was meant to sound like him, “‘Lance, grr, love isn’t real, it’s not for me, I could never’-” He broke off laughing, “And now? ‘Oh, Shiro baby, never leave me, yes, keep taking me apart, right _there_ -”

“Quit it,” Keith growled, on fire, and Lance cackled, but at least he listened.

“Oh trust me, buddy. You’re going to be a lot happier when you finally-”

But Keith wouldn’t get to hear what would _finally_ bring him true happiness and contentment, because at that point there was a knock at Lance’s window, and they both turned to see the project manager, her hands cupped over her eyes and pressed against the glass, her wide blue eyes peering in. Lance smiled, moved to roll the window down, and waited. Keith fidgeted, and looked away from her stare.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “But our site printer’s down. Do you think you could come take some pictures of the page, or something..?” Lance shot Keith a look, and he could tell his friend was struggling not to laugh.

“Yeah, we can do that. Not your fault the company doesn’t provide functional equipment, am I right?” He flashed his trademark smile at the girl, the one that made just about everyone melt, and she giggled out an agreement. Keith rolled his eyes, getting out of the car in time with Lance.

He walked along a few steps behind them, listening as Lance flirted shamelessly with the blonde- he’d asked once whether Allura would have a problem with that kind of behavior. Lance had winked at him, and Keith had never forgotten the words that had come out of Lance’s mouth next.

“She encourages it.”

He was starting to understand that their relationship was anything but unhealthy- it followed almost none of the rules he’d learned about successful partnerships growing up, but it worked. Likely because the rules had been bullshit all along. A sudden shriek to his left made him jump, and a few girls ran by, two being chased by a third with a handful of ice cubes from the site cooler. Keith rolled his eyes, but a fond smile appeared where there would have only been exasperation before. He was becoming a kinder, warmer person, and all because of the relationships he’d been cultivating.

Another of the student artists then wandered between him and the manager, who continued walking with Lance. Keith waited for her to pass, doing his best not to stare- but her odd, wavering gait finally caught his eye and forced him to look at her. Her hand, which had been pressed over her forehead, suddenly fell to her side and without a word, she crumpled, falling straight down. Her head made a resounding smack as she collapsed onto the sidewalk, and the world seemed to freeze. Keith was moving before he had the chance to think.

Shaky hands gently turned the girl over, her body deadweight and still. Keith quickly pressed his ear close to her mouth, and when he felt nothing, he whipped his head up, staring wild-eyed at Lance.

“Call an ambulance; she’s not breathing.” He expected the words to come out shouting, but he was eerily calm as he pressed his fingers to her neck. Her pulse was there, but weak, and Keith’s mind was already racing well ahead of his body, his hands settling over her chest. Using as much strength as he dared, Keith began compressions as activity exploded around him. He blocked it all out- the chilling scream from who he assumed was a friend of the girl, Lance hurrying out of the way and pulling his phone free, the manager and other workers rushing over. 

Keith was already moving on to checking her airway as they arrived, tilting the girl’s head back and pinching her nose. He watched, an eye on her chest as he breathed for her. It rose, and he delivered the second breath, before quickly switching back to compressions, quick and steady. A hand on his shoulder made him look up, but he continued.

“We’re trained, too” it was the manager, looking much more serious now. “Ambulance is on its way, what can we do?”

“Rags,” Keith huffed, “Or anything, to stabilize her head and neck. Straighten out her legs and arms for me-” he paused to deliver two breaths again, watching her chest rise with each. “Try to wake her up,” he added breathlessly, “Gently.”

The routine went on for what felt like hours, but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes- they were deep in the center of the city, a hospital not far away. Crystal- Keith learned that was her name, from the attempts of the team to get her back- remained motionless, but with each check-in, she held on, her heart still beating. Keith was happy to breathe for her, until another worker gently pulled him away, and took over. Keith joined Lance and a few others to shield the scene from the prying eyes around them- the curious public and the stricken youth alike. 

It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight when the ambulance pulled up, followed by a fire truck, and a police car. The extra arms seemed to alarm the team around him, but Keith advanced, his chest still heaving and his stare hard as he directed the paramedics- unsure even of what he was saying, but it must have been enough. He watched as the uniforms took over, dispersing the crowd and tending to the girl. Dizzy, feeling emotion overwhelm him and tears threaten, Keith abruptly turned from the scene, the memories flitting through his head becoming too much to handle. 

He wandered straight back to the van, the chaos of the scene allowing him to get away with the absence. Once he was seated inside and closed off from the rest of the world, Keith took stock of himself. His limbs felt as though they’d been filled with lead, and he was shaking all over. His skin felt cold and clammy, his chest ached, and try as he might he couldn’t get out of his head, couldn’t see what was really in front of him- was it Crystal on that stretcher, or his father? Had she died? Had he lived? Smoke inhalation, or a head injury? Breathing? Not breathing. Curling up, nails biting into his palms, Keith tried to remember, tried to be sure of where and when he was.

He heard Lance’s door open and shut, and the car suddenly rumbled to life, cold air blasting from the vents and soothing him. It was such a small thing, but it helped.

“Keith?”

Lance.

“Hey, she’s going to be alright, man. They say it was your early intervention that saved the day. Good thing we went through the training, huh?” He tried, forcing a chuckle. Keith unraveled from his curl, and nodded. 

“..She lived? She’s going to recover? Completely?”

“Yeah. She woke up as they were taking her away. Collapsed from dehydration, they’re going to check her out, maybe keep her at the hospital.”

“Her family’s been called?”

“Yeah,” Lance looked at him worriedly, and Keith didn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah. Everything’s good. Project site’s closed for the day, we’ll probably have to make some speech about this, but our work here is done for now. We can go home.” Slowly, feeling numb, Keith nodded.

“Okay. Thanks, Lance.”

As eager as he was to put the incident behind himself and go on with his life, Keith woke the next day very late, and when he tried to move, there was an ache, coupled with a deep exhaustion, that had settled into his bones. Rising from bed was a sluggish affair and one that took way too much time. Breakfast was a room temperature bowl of cereal that was left untouched on the countertop. After preparing it, Keith had leaned heavily against the wall to catch his breath and to stop the dizziness and nausea still plaguing him. When he felt he wasn’t about to lose what little he’d eaten, he abandoned the food and instead trudged to the couch, slumping down onto the cushions and clutching his head.

Maybe he was sick.

But now? Even if summer was reaching its last stretch, it was too warm to be getting ill. Closing his eyes against a sudden surge of violent memories from the day before, and a cold fear that made bile rise in his throat, Keith pressed his knuckles to his closed eyes- hard. He fought it back, and when he could move again, reached for his phone.

“Lance..?” Even his voice sounded dead to his own ears, like he’d been awake for mere minutes rather than hours. “I don’t think I’m coming in.” There was a pause that only made his dread rise.

“This because of yesterday?” Lance’s voice finally came through, pleasantly light, and Keith sagged back in relief.

“Yes. I just don’t have the energy… Physically, I’m just… off-”

“Keith.”

He paused, never having heard Lance say his name so seriously before.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, okay?” Lance continued on, and Keith believed him. “Take tomorrow off, too. That’s only two days, and then there’s the weekend. Give you enough time to recuperate.” Keith started to protest, and Lance cut him off. “You get four days. You haven’t used any yet, and the season’s almost over. Right?” Another pause, during which Keith tried to think of a counter argument. Suddenly sounding confident, Lance went on, “I’ll be fine.” Allura’s voice was on the line, next.

“Listen to him. And please feel better, Keith.” Her voice was pleasant to listen to, calmed him, and Keith finally gave in.

“Okay. I’ll see you, Lance. And thank you, Allura…”

Keith hung up, phone still in hand, and for a long time he simply sat there, some invisible force dragging his limbs down, stronger than himself, stronger than gravity. He stared at the dark, silent phone in his hand, knowing he should call Shiro, knowing he’d be happy to help…

And yet.

They’d had sex outside of their sessions. Maybe even made love. Keith had promised Shiro that nothing bad would come of it; he assumed that meant bringing negative, personal issues into the relationship- he would handle it, and he would do so on his own. After all, it didn’t affect his sessions. If anything, Keith was looking forward to his meeting with Shiro. It would be just the boost he needed.

Despite the decision made, Keith still found himself unable to move until a cold, wet nose pressed against his knee. Kosmo. He looked up, straight into bright brown eyes that stared back at him eagerly. The massive beast’s entire body was quivering, and he huffed lightly at Keith, before whining and licking his hand. Keith managed a small smile.

“Alright, buddy. Alright,” he said tiredly, and then hauled himself to his feet with a grunt. “Let’s go.”

Once he got started- right foot, left foot- it was easy to continue their route, and once they’d each broken a sweat under the desert sun and retreated again to the cooler air of the house, Keith felt a little better, well enough to feed Kosmo and himself properly and type out a few emails. Even so, hitting _send_ seemed to make his whole arm ache, and Keith stopped there for the day, spending the rest of his time curled up with Kosmo and occasionally dozing where he lay. He refused to call Shiro, who sent lighthearted texts his way and which Keith responded to as if nothing had happened.

That weekend he rose with the sun and went through his routine as usual, feeling just a little lighter at the thought of meeting up with Shiro. Keith scrubbed his skin until it was red and raw in a shower almost too hot to bear, and opted for shorts and a loose t-shirt when Shiro texted him to ‘wear something easy to take off.’ For the first time that week, Keith was starting to feel some excitement stir low inside him.

He sent back only a wink to Shiro as he took Kosmo out for his morning walk, smiling down at his phone even as the leash looped around his hand jerked and pulled wildly. Keith finally looked up, and Kosmo was at the very end of the lead, jumping and twirling as two butterflies fluttered above him.

“Come on, Kosmo,” Keith called, and gently tugged at the leash. “Let’s leave them to their business.”

A storm was rolling in when they returned to the house, dark clouds rumbling closer and casting half the land in an odd darkness, while where Keith stood remained brightly lit. It was an eerie effect, and it gave him enough anxiety that he coaxed Kosmo into a jog with playful calls of his name and by clapping his hands. The desert skies had decided to pour by the time Keith had packed his bag, and with a huff and a glare at the rain, he ducked back inside to grab an umbrella- though it was no quick endeavor and involved digging through a dusty old box for the item, which he knew he was lucky to possess at all, having lived in the desert for years.

Outside, as Keith walked the path to the bus stop- no way was he taking the bike in this- he watched as the beginnings of a flash flood crept along not far from him, a foamy film of water seeking out dips and shallows in the land, before settling there and ultimately overflowing. The effect was a strange but beautiful one, creating shallow streams and islands of cacti and weeds that stood stubbornly against the onslaught. Despite it being an early sign of the cooler season coming, it made Keith smile, and he was still smiling as he boarded the bus later on, briefly warning Shiro he may be late and watching the rain stream down the window with a wistful look on his face. It was here that the thought occurred to him- daydreaming like a lovestruck movie protagonist? He was fucked.

Not that he minded. Keith reached Shiro’s house with a near spring in his step and a big smile on his face that softened when Shiro opened the door. He was clad in a white tank and gray sweats similar to Keith’s, his eyes gazing fondly down and his hands tucked casually into his pockets. They withdrew, of course, and wrapped Keith in a warm, tight hug that seemed to crush all of the sadness and all of the lethargy right out of his body.

“It’s good to see you again,” Shiro said to him as they walked down the hallway. Atlas wove between Keith’s legs, and he carefully picked each step, ensuring he wouldn’t kick her. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” he added, his voice sounding shy to Keith’s ears, and he perked up.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Shiro smiled back at him, led him into the living room with a hand in his. “A very important lesson in pup play, if you ask me.” He let go then, winking at Keith and moving to draw the blinds. Atlas was picked up, stroked, and locked out of the room for the time being. She briefly scratched at the door before losing interest and padding away again. Keith watched all of this with excitement, trying to shoot looks at Shiro both to puzzle things out, and to try and coax him into giving out a hint or two. “Strip for me?” Was all Shiro would say, however, a pleasant look to his eyes, and Keith rolled his own- but he obeyed.

“Just wanted a look at me, did you?” Keith asked snarkily as he kicked away the garments he’d dropped, and in that instant, Shiro rolled in a mirror and placed it directly in front of Keith. He stared his reflection down for a moment, before reverting his eyes. “This a kink of yours?” Shiro had to laugh.

“No. A large part of being a pup is communication through body language… but I’ve often found that jumping into it can lead to problems with body image.” It sunk in then what the day’s session was going to consist of, and Keith felt incrementally less eager than before. “So,” Shiro’s hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present, and Keith let his mind focus on the way that calloused hand smoothed down his neck, then mapped a path down his spine. “We’re going to go down your body,” a kiss was planted to his neck, and Keith shivered. “And we’re going to go through everything you feel about it- positive and negative. If there are negatives, we’ll find a way to deal with them, together. Yeah?” Another kiss, and Keith had to nod despite the growing disquiet in his gut. He ignored it.

“Yeah.”

“Now, I know this can be hard for a lot of pups,” Shiro added, and he kept smoothing his hands up and down Keith’s back- it was calming. He could do this. He would do this. “Even those we look up to in terms of fitness or weight secretly struggle with things both big and small they don’t like about themselves. It seems like there’s always something someone would change, no matter how handsome we may find them in our eyes,” Shiro met his gaze in the mirror, and Keith smiled shyly and ducked his head. “Before we start, just know that nothing about you disqualifies you from being a pup- not weight, gender, sex or experience. And don’t be afraid to be honest with me. I have my own demons,” Shiro said much quieter, and Keith turned his head to look over his shoulder. Shiro smiled apologetically, but h nodded. He was telling the truth. Keith looked back at the mirror.

“Okay, so I just… start? Head to toe?”

“Yeah. If you find that easiest.”

“Okay, uh… I was teased a lot for my hair when I was younger,” Keith said easily. It was the first and most obvious place to start, and it wasn’t hard to talk about. “That it was too long, and messy. That I was scruffy, that I needed to brush it.” He reached up to push his bangs out of the way, “I was told to keep it out of my face, etcetera, etcetera.”

“How do you feel about that?” Shiro prompted.

“I like my hair how it is.” Keith mumbled. “It’s not great or terrible. It’s just me.” He smirked. “My look.”

“And when Lance calls it a-”

“Mullet!” Keith finished, turning around. “He’s crazy! There’s no way,” Keith grumbled, but it was all in good fun as he added, “I mean, it’s not exactly business in the front-”

Laughter interrupted him, and Keith grinned as Shiro hid his face in his shoulder. “See?” He chuckled. “You’re doing great with this, Keith. Want to continue?”

He nodded, and they did. Keith didn’t explain the scar extending from his jawline to his cheekbone, and Shiro didn’t ask- though Keith did declare he wouldn’t remove it even given the chance. As far as body image went, Keith was more than fine with his- he’d often been called pretty by past partners, and in his more confident moments he found he could agree. He could be taller, his arms and shoulders could be bigger- he said this with another shy smile and a glance at Shiro’s muscled torso, and his friend had laughed lightly.

Still, Keith found that the lower they went, the lower he felt. He’d never had a particular problem with his body- outside of the teasing that came along with existing around other people who didn’t like when you were different from them, he’d never truly internalized it the way someone else might- and yet. He still had the scars, still had a little less muscle and a little more softness than he would have chosen, still wasn’t perfect in anyone’s eyes. And he still had the heavy weight of the week’s earlier disaster pressing his mind down, deeper and deeper into a well of numbness. He began to answer only when Shiro prompted him, and eventually his mind got caught somewhere else. He came awake again at the sound of Shiro saying his name.

“Sorry- what?” Keith tried to sound genuinely surprised, innocent, but it was too late. Shiro’s gaze was already filled with concern as he gazed in the mirror back at him. Keith suddenly turned away, unable to face either the mirror or Shiro.

“Hey.” A hand settled on his shoulder, and Keith let it stay. “You just went completely silent.” Shiro said. “Here, take this,” something else settled around his shoulders then, fabric, and when Keith looked, it was Shiro’s jacket. He grimaced, hating that he had ruined yet another session of theirs, but pulled it tight around his body anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Shiro murmured, still gentle despite everything. “Just tell me what’s going on.” Keith hesitated, and then began.

“...At work this week, there was a girl…” He went on to recount how the heat and the hard work had led her to dehydrate, to grow too foggy to recognize what she needed, and how she had ultimately collapsed, hitting her head so badly she had stopped breathing. His voice began to shake as he told of how he’d jumped into action before he’d even realized it, and how he’d retreated when the scene was taken over by the professionals. Shiro listened quietly as Keith finished, “I haven’t gone back to work since. Not that it’s a big problem… I just feel so disappointed in myself,” he admitted, and didn’t look up. Shiro’s hands gently guided him to sit, and Keith threaded his hands through his hair.

“Keith,” Shiro repeated his name, and it sounded amazing and crushing, “You know already this is no state in which to practice pet play.”

“I know,” Keith’s voice was a whisper, and he prepared for a lecture, feeling his chest tighten and his stomach drop. He was going to be sick. A moment later, he was pleasantly surprised instead.

“I only want to know what would help you feel better, what would calm you down.” Shiro said, and draped an arm around Keith to pull him closer. “You still came for a reason. I don’t see you as the type to make the same mistake twice, intentionally or not. So what was your reason?” He didn’t ask why Keith hadn’t told him about everything sooner- he seemed to understand.

“I just… Just wanted to be a pup. Just wanted to be carefree and let go for a day. It always makes me feel a little better… A little clearer.” Shiro was nodding.

“A lot of pups feel that way. I can help you get to your headspace, but you’ve got to promise this is what you want, and not just an attempt to keep going through the motions,” even the words weren’t scolding- Shiro was more concerned for him, Keith realized, than anything else. His eyes lit up with determination then, and he nodded.

“It’s what I want. I should’ve told you that from the very beginning. This won’t happen again,” he declared, and Shiro smiled at him. “Hey,” Keith said softly, “Sun’s out.”

“Scoundrel,” Shiro said, laughing, and lightly pushed at his chest. “Tell me, what helps you get to your headspace?” Shiro asked, smiling like he knew but wanted Keith to say it. It made him hot immediately, and Keith fidgeted as that heat flamed up into his cheeks and pooled in his gut.

“My collar and my tail.”

“Fetch them, pup.”

Keith scrambled to obey, leaving Shiro’s jacket behind as he dropped from the couch immediately onto all fours and crawled over to his bag. He quickly unzipped and unpacked what he needed, tail in hand, the collar folded neatly and placed between his teeth. The leather groaned softly from the treatment, and the taste and the tension in his jaw made Keith salivate, but he still padded back over to Shiro, who took the items from him with a smirk and smoothed a hand down his spine. 

“Good boy,” he cooed, and Keith melted, tingles starting at his scalp and shivering down his spine as calloused hands fastened the collar around his neck- the leather was warm from being held in his mouth as it looped around his throat and Shiro’s finger. It was pulled tight, and fastened securely. “Very good,” Shiro went on, “You really are so handsome like this,” Keith whined softly in delight as he was pulled up for a kiss by the D-ring. Shiro patted his thigh then, and Keith cast a dangerous look at the muscle. “Come on up here, pup.” Shiro ordered. “Let’s get your tail in.”

Keith complied, but as Shiro produced a bottle of lube from a nearby drawer and slicked his fingers, Keith reached out to stop him, the grip on his wrist enough to make Shiro look up in surprise. Keith took a breath, and then wet his lips.

“I… I want to be in control this time.” He blurted, and allowed himself to be shocked by his own audacity for a moment before continuing, “I want…” Embarrassment overcame him, and Keith looked away- but he knew if he was going to communicate his needs, he’d have to do so without fear. It was only Shiro- and Shiro wanted to please him, too. Keith met his eyes. “I feel safer when I’m in control-” Keith’s words caught in his throat. Shiro was staring up at him with wide eyes, darkened by what Keith hoped was arousal. “Is… that okay?” Shiro gulped and nodded.

“Yes.” He murmured. “God, yes. What do you want, Keith? Tell me, baby.”

“To ride you.”

A quiet curse answered his statement, and Shiro crashed into him with a kiss that was much more heated, much more exciting, than before. Keith moved against him, moaning into his mouth as Shiro’s fingers found his ass, squeezed, and began to work around his rim, prodding until they could slip inside. Shiro stretched him quickly- it was borderline painful, but the lube slicked his movements enough that the rough friction against his walls was soothed, and with each push deeper, each crook of Shiro’s fingers, Keith gasped sharply and rolled his hips, sweat already starting to bead on his neck and shoulders. Shiro’s tongue passed over his neck, and Keith shuddered.

“Shit,” he hissed, his lips parted, “I need you inside me, Sir. Now, please now…”

“You’re the one in control here, pup,” came the infuriating answer, “What are you going to do about these desires of yours?” Keith growled, and fumbled with Shiro’s belt buckle while he chuckled, lifting his hips whenever Keith brushed too forcefully against him. When he was freed, Keith gripped Shiro’s cock lightly in his hand, starting to pump and twist his fist around the head, down his shaft, up again-

“Fucking tease,” Shiro huffed, and Keith had to purr in agreement.

“Beg me for it.”

“Absolutely not,” Shiro growled back, and Keith relented with a laugh that fizzled out into a choked groan as he sank down on Shiro’s cock, shifting his hips until Shiro bottomed out inside him. They both released a breath, and when Keith felt he could, he opened his eyes again to look at Shiro. That defiant smirk was still in place- _you’re in control, aren’t you?_ \- and so Keith moved, making Shiro moan loudly.

The noise made him confident, and Keith sank down further, a growl rising as he positioned himself over Shiro’s lap, straddling him on his knees, and began to move languidly, his body rolling and spine bending as he teased further, deprived Shiro of the kind of pleasure he knew he could inflict in favor of his own- and god, was it good. The head of Shiro’s cock was deep inside him, grazing against his prostate and stroking his walls in a way that wound Keith up deliciously tight. If he didn’t stop soon, he was going to come long before he wanted, and without even giving Shiro the treatment he deserved. Keith indulged for just a minute more, throwing his head back and moaning, and then stopped, switching to lifting himself up until Shiro’s cock almost slipped free, and then dropping his hips down again.

Shiro responded by growling and digging his fingers into Keith’s hips, and Keith did it again with a smirk on his face, flushing red from the exertion. He started off slow, watching the way his movements were unraveling Shiro, and once he had found a pace, he sped up until they were both panting desperately. Keith rocked his hips until his thighs were shaking, and then pulled Shiro into a desperate kiss, his lips parted, swallowing his moans and feeling shivery at the feeling of Shiro’s tongue lapping into his mouth, sharing his breath. He slowed, and then pulled away, his hips stilling completely. Shiro groaned.

“What are you-”

“I don’t want to fucking come yet,” Keith growled, and rested his head lightly against Shiro’s as he panted. He smirked. “You got to see… All my insecurities, today. So show me yours?” He’d been half joking, but Shiro watched him for a moment, and then pushed Keith back, his hands slipping down to the hem of his shirt. Keith watched, mesmerized and feeling Shiro twitch inside him as he shrugged off his tank, and tossed it aside. The anxiety in Shiro’s eyes, how scared and vulnerable he looked, had Keith diving immediately to kiss that look right off his face. He didn’t stop there, closing his lips over the skin just below Shiro’s jaw and sucking until Shiro was mewling and squirming beneath him. It was an addicting feeling, and Keith half expected Shiro to stop him as he continued kissing and biting along his neck. He never did.

He finally pulled away and started to move again, breathing heavily as he gazed down at Shiro- covered in scars. Some looked like his own, put there by a hand or tool that should never have met his skin, and some had the too-straight, precision look of surgical scars put there by a scalpel. Keith traced each one with a touch light enough to make Shiro shiver, all while his hips rocked in a merciless rhythm that had Shiro gasping wordlessly. 

“Fuck, _fuck_ I love this,” Keith breathed, unable to keep going without expressing the emotion he was feeling- he would burst. Shiro only gripped tighter.

“Just- wait ‘til you get your first hood,” he shuddered and closed his eyes, “Ooh, you’ll really sink then-”

Keith nearly sobbed at that thought, his orgasm seizing him and whiting out his vision, his limbs still holding strong and his hips still fucking Shiro through it. When Keith finally milked himself dry he couldn’t find the strength to pull off- he sunk down onto Shiro again with a pained grunt, and virtually collapsed against his chest. Shiro’s strong arms were there in an instant.

“Easy…” Shiro murmured, carefully pulling Keith up and off of his cock. He realized Shiro had gone soft right before he slipped out, and a rush of warmth spilled from between his legs. Keith tried his best to close them, his lip curled in a grimace. “Sorry,” Shiro gave him a smile, and Keith shook his head.

“I’m flattered,” he grunted flatly, and earned another laugh.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Keith.”

Shiro was the one to drive him home, and Keith lounged against the car door, eyes closed as he drifted in and out, content. He awoke once, remembering there was one more thing he had to do. He dialed a number into his phone quickly, and listened to it ring.

“Keith..?” Lance’s voice sounded as rough as his own did when he answered.

“Yeah. I’m definitely feeling better, Lance. And I will be seeing you at work.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith gets a second chance at learning his own body, as well as how to use it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for blood and trauma in this chapter!
> 
> As always, thank you all for reading so so much (even when this fic goes a month or five without an update) and for leaving kudos and comments below, they really do motivate me to write more than you know <3

“Welcome back, buddy!” Lance was already shouting as Keith trudged outside the following week. His coworker stood there, surrounded by desert, with his hands raised straight up and a wide, idiotic grin on his face.

“God, Lance, don’t make it weird,” Keith huffed, but as he passed he allowed a smile to take over his expression. It was nice to be getting back to work, easier now to push the former week’s incident out of his mind.

“Worrying isn’t a responsibility you have to take on,” Shiro had told him over a phone call just the night before, “Something bad isn’t going to happen just because you chose not to punish yourself. Thinking about the bad doesn’t keep it at bay- Believe me.”

Every time he felt prone to worrying anyway, tossing and turning throughout the night, Keith had tried to remind himself of those words and somehow, he’d managed to settle and sleep for enough hours that his morning coffee was sufficient to keep him steady on his feet, alert, and even happy. As happy as he dared to be.

"So," Lance started out the conversation as they pulled out of the driveway, "I got this new app, right?"

"Oh, no."

"No, listen, it's really cool. You enter in all the credit card debt you have, and the places you owe it to?"

"Lance."

"And it condenses it all into an easy monthly payment. Some people have payed off their credit cards in like, a year!"

"Lance." Keith repeated, louder this time, and got a cheerful smile in return.

"Yes, buddy?"

"You don't have any credit cards."

And so things were back to normal. Keith even dared to believe things were better than normal. The microwave collected a fine film of dust throughout the week as he stopped nuking his food to inferiority and began to cook, rich, warm smells filling the little house and drawing Kosmo to sit at Keith's feet, oblivious to the heat of the stove and licking his chops up at his owner, who ignored his begging, for the most part. If a few morsels of meat were snapped up by the shaggy beast, who could be blamed? Keith's nightly routine of scrolling through and cleaning up his messages became listening to Shiro's voice over the phone as he worked out or walked Kosmo, often with the added bonus of watching the night blanket the desert in a matter of minutes, painting over the glorious bursts of red and gold with deep, rich blues and violets that Keith favored just a little more than the warmer scene. It helped that the stars showed themselves not soon after, and the relief of the suddenly cool air often had Keith sighing out as he gazed upward, seeking out constellations he hadn't visited since his childhood. Kosmo was often the one to urge him on with a whine and a shuffle of boredom, likely wondering what it was about the sky that had so captured Keith's attention.

Krolia, too, revisited her past, and often. It became almost a daily occurrence for Keith to leave work and immediately meet up with his mother at some quiet place- a park, a museum, an undiscovered diner- and have lunch with her, listening with wide eyes as she told him stories of his father from her point of view.

"He tried to make us dinner once-" Krolia began on one such occasion, a smile already brimming in her eyes, "It was meant to be a surprise, and I had arrived home much earlier that day than either of us had planned. I walked in to quite the scene- the house was filled with smoke, the windows in the back were all open, and there your father stood, a rag in his hand that he'd lit by trying to wipe down the stove… after he had turned the burners on."

"Ironic," Keith said with a quirk of a brow, but it was getting easier and easier to work up to a smile. "And this is the man who became a-"

"Firefighter, yes," Krolia answered, letting out a deep, rich laugh that stirred Keith's heart into feeling fond, "But to his credit, this was, oh… Within the first year of us living together? Long before he ever found his true calling as a hero." She sobered then, and her eyes fell. "He was always so brave. Taking care of you, and saving lives at the same time. He knew the importance of both. He remains to this day the only man I've ever known who was given two life purposes." Krolia looked at him, then, and Keith felt the universe pause. "You are so much like him."

Keith's throat betrayed him by constricting, choking him up with tears, maybe of grief or pride or both, and he had to look away and blink quickly, swallowing hard to rid himself of that lump in his throat that so threatened his reputation. Krolia reached out to take his hand.

"Don't make it weird," she said with a smile. This time, Keith did laugh.

The scene when he next arrived at Shiro's place mirrored the one of just a week ago, though Keith was sure now that it wouldn't end the same ill-fated way. They'd spoken every day, had talked extensively about the issue of body image over several video chats, and Shiro had even offered a different topic for the day's lesson- Keith had politely declined, and had arrived ready to encounter all the fears he'd run from the previous week.

“My scar,” he murmured presently, and reached to touch it. Shiro’s hand beat his there, and after a moment’s hesitation, Keith closed his eyes and leaned gratefully into the touch, continuing, “That’s something I could do without.” Shiro began to trace along it with a touch so light, Keith felt himself weaken.

“What happened?”

Keith didn’t need to close his eyes for the scene in front of him to wash away.

“At one of the homes, the caretaker in charge of us got… very pissed about things, very often. I don’t remember what it was that night, a doctor’s appointment or something at work, but she loaded the three of us staying with her into a car, and sped off.” Keith felt Shiro’s arms wrap tightly around him, and he opened his eyes, sighing in relief when he only saw the reflection of those dark eyes gazing back at him, steady and concerned. His voice was a little bolder when he continued, “She drove like she was angry. Floored it. Sped around corners. Eventually, the car ended up wrapped around a tree. There was so much blood…” Keith whispered, and he was back- the endless darkness broken up by flashing lights, glass littering the ceiling above his head, blood dripping down, into his eyes...

“Hey,” Shiro was the one to cut through, again, and Keith felt himself spun away from the mirror, calloused thumbs wiping his tears and stroking his cheeks. “Just look at me, listen to me. It’s over. It’s not happening anymore.” Keith did as he was told, focused on the feeling of Shiro touching him, on the softest look that had ever been directed at him in his life. “With me again, Keith?”

“...Yeah, Shiro.” Keith heard himself whisper, and as disgustingly cliché as it was, after another moment of staring into Shiro’s eyes, Keith surged forward and captured his lips in his own. It was short, and fast, and heated. Shiro’s lips, and then his body, moved against Keith’s, and a little thrill went through him when he heard Shiro panting for air as they broke, briefly, and came together again. Shiro chose then to pull away, and Keith’s whine at the loss was cut short when he saw Shiro shrugging off his shirt, and smiling shyly back at him when he caught Keith’s eye. He reached out, and Keith complied, taking his hand and watching as Shiro guided it to his own body, first his chest.

“Surgery,” Shiro said softly, as Keith’s fingers brushed over a very straight, very shiny scar raised on his skin, “One of many.” Shiro guided his hand south, and Keith swallowed as he met another scar on Shiro’s hip. “A fight, believe it or not, this one is from hitting the asphalt…”

Keith found it in himself to laugh again, and they embraced, before continuing on with the session.

“Do a lot of pups find this part difficult..?” Keith asked. They had both stripped to their boxers, and Shiro kept kissing every part of Keith’s body that he’d singled out as less than perfect. It’d been getting distracting.

“No,” Shiro laughed softly, his hand lazily dragging through Keith’s hair, “Most bail when they have to start making doggy noises. They think it’s too ridiculous, can’t let go of their pride.”

“Hm,” Keith said, rolling his eyes, “Surprised it’s not the piss that drives them away.”

“Most men enjoy that part.”

“Most men are disgusting,” Keith fired back, and looked up when he heard the warm sound of Shiro’s laughter.

“I have to agree with you.”

Keith could only sigh out as Shiro kept kissing him, starting to stray from all his little imperfections and flaws and instead moving to Keith’s neck, seeking out all the most sensitive spots- blowing lightly over the shell of his ear, nibbling at the lobe, sucking roughly at the spot just below it, his face pressed close enough that his nose was smushed into Keith’s ear- and try as he might to get away from the attention, Keith was held fast by Shiro’s strong hand, planted at the other side of his neck. The kisses traveled down, following the path of his jugular, and Keith felt his knees start to weaken.

“Shiro-”

“Hm?” Came the rumbling voice, and Keith gasped as a sharp nip was placed to the base of his neck. He’d bowed already, his head tilted to the side and his eyes shut tightly, but he still let a quiet, breathless curse slip free.

“Shiro, _please_.”

“What is it you want, pup?” Some stubble that Shiro had let grow through tickled Keith’s throat as he spoke, and he growled playfully.

“Make out with me.” To his astonishment, Shiro instead stepped away, and Keith teetered for a moment, glaring at him and feeling the heat of his body creep up to his face.

“You’re getting distracted,” Shiro explained, looking and sounding like he was trying not to laugh. “You’re here for a lesson about communication as a pup, remember?”

“You son of a-”

“Ah, ah.” Shiro wagged his finger, his smile absolutely delighted now. Then, his expression darkened, and he advanced forward. “Pups don’t speak.”

“But-”

“Down, boy.” Shiro ordered and, with murder in his mind, Keith only obeyed when a heavy hand came down on his shoulder, forcing him to his knees. He was conveniently eye-level with Shiro’s clothed cock then, and he glared up at him, about to take matters into his own hands, when they were instead lightly batted aside as they began to undo Shiro’s belt. “Pups don’t have hands, either.” Keith was ready to explode.

“Why?” He snarled, and when Shiro only gave him an amused look, he reiterated, “What _can_ I do?” Shiro looked delighted.

“I’m glad you asked.”

All in all, it was an enlightening lesson.

It was also the first, Keith noted, in which personality came into play in a much larger way. 

"Now, for the rest of the session," Shiro continued, petting through Keith's hair and smiling down at him, "You do not speak, and you do not use your hands, except in an emergency. If you need help with something, or need to safeword, my name will work." Keith still felt the need to grouch at him, but held his tongue. He didn't want the petting to stop. "Good boy." Keith sighed.

"You already know there’s a difference in the scene between dominance and submission. You know that you can be either, a mix of both, or you can switch. But in pup play, even though there are very often clear roles- master and pet- there are different levels of dominance among pups that comes about naturally when you interact with a pack."

"A pack? Does that mean I'm going to-"

"Hush." Shiro interrupted, his hand coming to gently cup itself over Keith's mouth. He glared, and licked Shiro's fingers in retaliation. Shiro cheerfully dried his hand by smoothing it over Keith's face and hair, making him grunt in disgust. Shiro only smiled sweetly. "There are plenty of options for interacting with other pups, either in a quiet, intimate setting like this, or at events, which are a lot more overwhelming when you're in your headspace. Knowing how to communicate without words is very important."

Keith didn't speak during this pause- he'd learned his lesson, and he only nodded. Shiro seemed satisfied, scratching at the base of Keith's skull until he shuddered, and went on.

"You're definitely not a submissive pup, but you're not aggressive either. Maybe a bit of a brat," Shiro said in warning, when Keith began to eye his belt again, "But I'd say you fall somewhere in the middle, with more dominance in you than the average pup. You'll be exhibiting mostly dominant body language, but you'll be interpreting that of those submissive to you. So it's all important." Keith deadpanned.

"Yeah, I got that."

"No words, pup. Words are for people." Shiro reminded, his voice darker, and Keith bowed his head, earning another scratch that sent tingles down his spine. "Good boy. It may be obvious, but dominant stances, dominant movements, they require you to look bigger, take up more space, move more dramatically. Everyone should know when you're doing something, or when you want something, as opposed to a more submissive pup, who would stay small, hunched down, and try to hide what he was doing. Let's try, yeah?"

And then, to his astonishment, Keith watched Shiro smoothly sink down to all fours.

"Say I rank slightly higher than you," Keith interrupted him with a snort, and Shiro only gave him a warning look, "I would want to be bigger, taller, for one." He demonstrated, pushing himself up onto his knuckles and towering over Keith, a playful grin on his face. "I want you lower than me, and if you don't behave naturally…" He inched forward, crowding Keith and nipping at the back of his neck.

"Hey-!"

"-Then I convince you." Shiro purred, crowding closer, and starting to kiss sloppily to Keith's ear. "Take what I want, punish you if I so please." He lifted his arms, and languidly crossed them over Keith's shoulder blades, leaning his weight on him, which Keith took easily… though he did growl softly. The sound cut off when Shiro wrapped an arm loosely around Keith's throat. "Real canine behavior," he explained, "is easily translated when you're on all fours." He pressed a kiss to Keith's ear. "I own you, and I'm going to show that by pushing you around." 

He demonstrated again, throwing his weight to the side and pulling Keith into a roll, pinning him flat on his back. It happened so quickly that Keith was left staring up at him wide-eyed, as Shiro clambered over his frame to straddle him, slowly rolling his hips down into Keith's.

"Oh, fuck-"

"I would stick to body language for now," it was maddening how casual, how steady Shiro was, while shamelessly humping him like a dog, "No noises. They're easy to misinterpret; beginners can't rely on them. They're secondary…" Heat was building low in Keith's body, and he whined. Shiro ignored him. "Note I haven't hurt you. Never hurt another pup… and more extreme actions like pinning them should be reserved for disagreements that can't be solved through other means."

Keith moaned, broken, desperate, and lifted his hips to meet Shiro's… but he was already rolling off of Keith.

"Up on all fours, pup."

Keith couldn't imagine keeping himself together, much less moving his body, but he obeyed anyway, every inch of his skin tingling and hot, his cock uncomfortably stiff between his legs.

"Good boy. Now, for submissive body language."

Keith watched as Shiro hopped back, still on all fours, and hunched closer in on himself. For how big he was, he had quickly made himself appear much smaller than even Keith, and he was already slinking forward.

"The opposite of dominance," Shiro began, even his voice softer and silkier now. Keith felt more chills. "Submission. At this end of the scale, you answer to everyone else…" His movements were sly, his body dipping low, as he approached Keith, and lifted his head to nuzzle and kiss at the underside of his jaw. Shiro batted his eyes sweetly, and nibbled lightly on a bit of skin. "You serve everyone else," he whispered into Keith's ear. "If they want something from you, they're going to get it," he crawled past Keith, their bodies brushing tantalizingly close, "If you piss them off, if you take something that's rightfully theirs, a treat or a toy… or a partner," Shiro's voice dipped dangerously low, and then reverted back to its soft, cheerful tone, "It's your job to placate them." He turned, and placed a kiss to Keith's shoulder. "But like with dominance, and avoiding hurting other pups, with submission, you always remember your safeword. You always speak up if you're uncomfortable, or feeling pain you shouldn't be. Pups are very rarely left alone. You'll always be safe with your handler around." Shiro paused then, and Keith turned to look at him, in time to catch a brief kiss from the other. "With me around," Shiro corrected, his eyes holding enough warmth to melt Keith down to his core.

Remembering not to speak, Keith only nodded, sure his own gaze was shining now, and he earned another kiss for his efforts that melted into something slow and sweet. Time passed in lazy increments measured by touches and kisses and grinding that was too deliberate to be fair. At least, Keith thought so. The passion and the heat he wanted from Shiro were nowhere to be found, and Keith came after an agonizing amount of time, spurred on by Shiro's hand and mouth and teased further once Shiro had painted him in his own release. 

"Fuck, _fuck_ , Shiro-" Keith bit back a shout as Shiro continued to toy with him once he'd gone soft, and he finally yelped helplessly and scrambled away, finally receiving mercy from his master and collapsing onto his side, his eyes closed. Moments later Shiro's palms were on him, his touch soothing over Keith's shoulders and back. He sighed happily and practically melted into the floor.

"Still okay?" Shiro's voice was ragged, and Keith groaned and shifted his hips down, as painful as it was. He hissed, but nodded.

"Just wanna stay here," Keith mumbled, feeling warm and light, too blissed out to even tuck his arms under his head. Somewhere above him, Shiro chuckled. "Just wanna rest. Feel so fucking good…" He groaned again as Shiro's palms settled on his back and dug in.

"I'm glad to hear that." Shiro said softly, continuing to knead the tension out of Keith's back and coaxing all sorts of little noises out of him. "Is this okay?"

"Perfect…" Keith grunted, and went wordless from there. Keith was content to submit to his hands, and Shiro seemed more than happy to work all of the knots out of his body.

"Once you're home safe," Shiro spoke after a while, and Keith pulled himself out of the haze he'd sunk into in order to turn his head and listen, "Your homework is to think about the personality you want to have as a pup, and start practicing the body language you prefer to exhibit. But don't forget the opposite, as well. Okay?" Keith hummed and affirmative, and heard another affectionate chuckle from above, before a kiss was planted on his cheek. "Good boy.

Keith, as always, did as he was told. The week's free time was spent on his mat, utilizing every movement, subtle or not, that he could produce on all fours- and without the use of his hands. Staying silent was easier without anyone around to talk to, and Keith had long since shed the embarrassment of acting like a pup in his own space, alone. The problem came with reproducing Shiro's movements, especially those that had been submissive. How Shiro had gone from commanding and dominating to moving like a vixen, Keith just couldn't figure out. Nonetheless, he stuck with it, gradually starting to favor the bigger, more dramatic body language of a dominant pup. The memory of Shiro pinning him lingered, however, and each time Keith would bite his lip and play the scene over in his mind as he thrusted erratically into his fist until he came. His routine has settled quickly, and every night Keith had the added bonus of falling asleep to the sound of Shiro's voice over the phone, talking to him about his day or coaxing him to sleep with his deep, melodic voice. His days had become perfection.

"So… You said Shiro's finally been working with you on communication?" Lance, for once, exhibited a calm and serious demeanor when he asked that question, and it intrigued Keith even more than a load of energy would have, coming from his coworker.

"Yeah. He thinks I'm doing well enough with it, but why..?"

"Allura and I have been talking…" Lance said, and he shifted to face Keith, almost looking shy. It was an odd expression to see on Lance McClain's face. "We've decided we'd both be cool with helping you out a little." Keith could only stare blankly.

"What do you mean? How so?"

"Shiro suggested you get some practice communicating with another pup. Sort of the real thing, but with people who are familiar to you…" Keith felt heat creeping into his face as Lance went on, seeing where this was going.

"So you're going to be…"

"In my headspace, yeah."

"And I'm going to be…"

"In your headspace." Lance looked at him seriously. "Only if you're completely comfortable, Keith. Shiro and Allura will be there, mediating." Keith felt he couldn't quite meet Lance's eyes, but he forced himself to do it anyway.

"Is this weird?"

"Only if we make it weird," Lance said, pasting a grin on his face, but he still looked nervous, and Keith narrowed his eyes, frustrated. 

"You know what I mean."

"You mean," Lance sighed, "Does it change things between you and me?" Keith burned hotter, but he nodded. Lance's blue eyes searched his, and Keith fought not to look away. "Do you want it to?"

"Honestly?" Keith averted his eyes, and ran a hand through his hair. He felt sick at the thought of upsetting Lance, which in retrospect, shouldn't have been surprising. They'd grown close, working together, but… "No." Keith said, almost apologetic. "I just don't feel like that towards you and-" a sound interrupted him, and he looked up in astonishment to see Lance giggling, the noise suppressed by a hand over his mouth. "Are you seriously laughing-"

"I'm sorry, Keith! You're just so serious," he let his laugh boom forth then, and shook his head. "I'm sorry," Lance repeated, the light of mirth in his eyes saying that he wasn't at all, "I don't feel like that about you either. Besides," his tone took on a teasing flavor then, "I know you belong to Shiro-"

"Oh, my fucking god-"

"Deep in your heart of hearts, your very soul longs to once again reunite with its other half-"

"Shut up!" Keith cried, shoving against Lance's shoulder, but his laughter was contagious, and as it went on Keith found himself joining in. "Damn it, Lance-"

"Look, Keith." Lance interrupted, sobering quickly again, "Pups who aren't romantically involved play together all the time. Should it be weirder, or less so that you and I are friends?"

"And coworkers," Keith muttered, rolling his eyes.

"And coworkers, Lance granted, with a small smile. "To be honest, I've started thinking of you as my brother-"

"Oh, god." Keith snorted. "Don't."

In the end, he had agreed to the idea.

Shiro had seemed more than happy to invite Allura and Lance to join their session that week, and when he arrived Atlas was locked away with a mournful mewl, before the four of them gathered in the play room, Lance and Allura sitting side by side, Shiro and Keith next to them.

"How will we do this?" Keith had asked the day before, thinking of the focus it required to sink into headspace, wondering just how flustering it would be to have not one but two other people watching him try to do so.

"You're the beginner, so if you're fine with it, I'd like to get you into headspace first. Spend a few minutes as a pup, with others around." Shiro's voice had been steady, and soft, and Keith was lulled just by that. "If that goes well, Allura will work with Lance, and the two of you can just…"

"Pup out?" Keith had suggested, with a cheeky grin on his face.

"Yeah," Shiro had snarked back, "'Pup out.'" Presently, that voice brought Keith back to the situation at hand.

"Down on your knees, pup," Shiro murmured, that heavy hand of his coming to rest on Keith's neck, and though no pressure was applied, he sank down to the mat on the ground immediately, aware that those watching were much more skilled at what he was about to do. Keith closed his eyes to block the rest of the world out as Shiro brushed his hair back from his neck and wound the collar around his neck, before pulling it tight, and cinching it in place. Keith shivered, and then Shiro made it worse, by continuing to speak, "That's a good boy. Just breath in, and out. You've already done this a million times, pup," his hands found Keith's hair then, and he let out a quiet moan that immediately made him stiffen and burn with embarrassment, but Shiro went on as if nothing had happened, petting him and cooing to him, "You know just what to do, pet. In and out. Slow, deep breaths. Just be aware of what's around you, how you feel. Picture the pup you are, and let that image wash over you…"

It was foggy, but it was working, and the first thing Keith became aware of happened to be that there were others in the playroom- people he recognized. He plodded straight over to Lance, dropping his head onto his friend's thigh and nuzzling into his jeans with a quiet whine.

"Wow," came Lance's voice, softer than Keith had ever heard it, and then he felt the bliss of those long fingers skimming over the surface of his scalp, parting his hair. "You really are something like this." Keith whined again, and pushed into Lance's hand for more attention. He wanted it. He would get it. He heard a husky laugh above him, then, and turned jovially to meet Shiro's eyes. Keith parted his lips, torn between mouthing off and genuinely asking if Shiro was proud of him, but the man's finger came to rest lightly against his lip.

"Pups don't talk, remember?" There was a smirk on Shiro's face. Keith pouted up at him, and pressed a kiss to the digit meant to keep him quiet. Shiro chuckled again, and withdrew. "Allura? Lance? Are you both ready?" The two had been pressed close to one another, each pair of eyes watching Keith while Allura's sharp, lacquered nails traced patterns on the back of Lance's neck. At Shiro's question, they both shifted, but didn't pull away from one another.

"Well, Blue?" Keith could hear Allura's voice purr sweetly, and he watched as her deft fingers fiddled with Lance's chain, doubling it over itself and pulling it tight against Lance's neck. There was a click, and the chain stayed. "Are you ready to be my good boy?" Allura crooned the words, and Keith could see Lance shiver.

"Shit," was the final word Lance spoke, before he and Allura shared a kiss, and then he was down on all fours with Keith. He was stunned- that was all it took? Thoughts were still swarming in Keith's mind, while Lance seemed to be gone, replaced with Blue, who nudged against Keith's side in a friendly way before Allura's voice distracted him, made it seem as though his entire body perked up as he looked at her. 

"Here, boys," she called sweetly, and Keith crawled steadily over to her outstretched hand, while beside him, Lance did the same. She was even gentler than Shiro, and Keith soon grew tired of the ticklish feelings of her hand stroking over his cheek. He pulled away with a loose, relaxed stance, wishing he could wag to apologize or, even better, speak, but he and Lance had wholeheartedly agreed to keep their clothes on, and their silicone tails well out of the picture. Keith looked to Lance then, and snorted softly when he saw the other's eyes closed in bliss, his body wagging happily even if it didn't have a tail to emote with. Of course.

"Alright, pups," Shiro's voice called, firm but still soft in volume, and Keith reacted instantaneously, turning to face him and feeling a ridiculously wide smile on his face. For a moment, he thought he caught Shiro smiling back at him, but his eyes must have been playing tricks on him. Shiro had stood, his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed, but still he held a relaxed expression to his eyes that made Keith sure he wasn't angry. If anything, he seemed pleased. Lance finally pulled away from Allura, looking drowsy, and finally fixed his eyes on the commanding presence of Shiro. "Remember, we're here to practice communication. I assume, Blue," Lance lifted his head a little, "That you'll take the dominant position," they both looked sly then, and their gazes turned to Keith, who flushed and opened his mouth.

"Why the hell-"

"Hush." Shiro said deeply- it wasn't loud, but it was certainly louder, and Keith's need to obey froze and silenced him, before he bowed his head and nodded, a thrill going down his spine. "Good boy. Blue has been here longer. It's only natural." With that, he spread his arms in a calm gesture, then clapped his hands together. "Okay, come on, boys, come here," Shiro was suddenly grinning, coaxing them both forward with his hands. Keith, feeling his anger fade and craving Shiro's touch, darted forward into his arms- only to be pounced on by Lance.

This became a recurring theme. Shiro would offer his attention, pats, treats in the form of some very sugary graham crackers that made Keith salivate for more. Each time he darted to meet Shiro, however, Lance would pounce, push him to his elbows, or shoulder him out of the way. Keith would make a noise in protest, return the gesture, and Lance would only seem amused, sometimes backing off, sometimes pressing his case until Keith submitted, reluctant and seething. He could understand why, however, the displays were necessary. For all their bickering, he and Lance hardly fought, and didn't hurt each other. Neither spoke. Keith was learning… and that meant it was only a matter of time before he grew fed up, and the next time Lance shouldered him aside to take Shiro's attention, Keith growled, and pounced.

He found himself on top of Lance, having heavily pinned the man to the floor. Keith didn't wipe the snarl off his face, didn't stop growling. Lance was gawking openly at him, and then those blue eyes quickly turned away, Lance's tension draining as he swiveled his head and whimpered, trying his best to placate Keith. It worked, if only because Keith was shocked, both at his own behavior, and at Lance's. When he crawled off, however, and gently bumped his friend in apology, he felt Shiro's hand come down onto his head, starting to scratch lightly. Keith hummed and leaned into the touch, and this time, Shiro was definitely beaming down at him.

"Good boy."

"I'm still thinking too much," Keith muttered later, after he and Lance's collars were unwound from their necks, their hair brushed back into place, all by their loving handlers. They had spent a few moments, Keith taking less time than Lance, to come out of their head. Shiro had cuddled Keith close and rubbed his shoulders; Allura had simply resumed pressing as close as humanly possible to Lance, who looked as though he were on cloud nine. "I can't stop making judgements and thinking about whether I should or shouldn't react," Keith went on, admittedly disappointed in himself. Shiro, however, wasn't having it.

"That will fade," he said gently, his touch still coaxing Keith to stay relaxed, "With time, you'll get better at keeping a clear mind."

"Besides, Keith," Allura interjected here, and Keith was surprised at what came out of her mouth next, "You are doing quite well for being a beginner." Keith flushed, a little confused and yet grateful. He hadn't expected any compliments from Allura.

"I'd hope so," Shiro said proudly, and Keith turned his bashful, glowing look on him. "He's taken the spot of Vader-"

"The pup who was giving you trouble?" Lance asked, a hostile look on his face at the thought, and Keith nodded.

"I got a bonus," he said softly, "For saving that girl. It was enough to pay for two sessions a week." At this, Shiro smiled, his eyes squinting a little. Keith beamed back at him until Lance interrupted their moment.

"Nice," he drawled, wiggling his eyebrows. Keith blushed, and kicked out at him.

"Shut _up_ , Lance!" The sound of the little crowd's friendly laughter still echoed in his ears that night, as Keith drifted off into a deep sleep, Kosmo in his arms, and Shiro in his dreams.


End file.
